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THE DOLE TWINS 


OR 

CHILD LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND IN 1807 





“THEY MADE FUNNY LITTLE RAFTS AND PADDLED 
ABOUT IN THE CELLAR.” {See page J4g.) 


CoS]j Corner Series 


THE 

DOLE TWINS 

Or, Child Life in New England in 1807 


By 

Kate Upson Clark 

Illustrated by 

Clara E. Atwood 



Boston jfc ^ ^ 

Z. C. Page Company 

Jk Jk igo6 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDie.c Received 

MAV 29 1906 

Gopyrifm Cntrj 
CLASS Jd, 'xXc. No, 
COPY B. 




c 


Copyright, igo6 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 


All rights reserved 


First Impression, May, 1906 


COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds <&^ Co, 
Poston, U.S-A' 


To THE Memory of 


2Dcac SEnclc ^plticBtcr 

AND 

Stunt ®tr^al) ;iIlaitocU 

WHO, thou(;h they were not twins, are the “dory 
AND DEBBY” of this STORY, WHICH IS TOLD AL- 
MOST AS IT FELL FROM THE LIPS OF THE 
LATTER, I DEDICATE IT WITH 
TEN DEREST LOVE 



PREFACE 


In her childhood, the writer of this book had 
a dear aunt, who was a very good story-teller. 
Many an evening in the firelight, I would say, 
“ Please, aunty, tell me what you and the 
others used to do when you were little girls 
and boys.” And she was always more than 
willing to do this. 

As I grew older, and saw how different 
modern child life is from that of a hundred 
years ago, it seemed to me wise to write down 
some of those old incidents and details, while 
the narrator was still living to verify them. 
This was done, and many of them have been 
woven into this narrative. My aunt died a few 
years ago, at the age of ninety-two. 

Nearly everything in this volume was related 
or suggested to me by this beloved aunt. 
There can be few other stories extant which 

vii 



Vlll 


PREFACE 


give a more correct idea than does “ The Dole 
Twins,” of the life and feelings, the joys and 
occupations, of the Puritan children of Western 
Massachusetts, a hundred years ago. It is 
hoped that the story in which these facts and 
details are set, will not overshadow their his- 
torical value, and that both children and older 
readers will find in the book not only amuse- 
ment but information. 


Kate Upson Clark. 



I. 

Chestnutting 

. 


I 

II. 

The Birthday Party 

. 


i6 

III. 

The Mustering 

• 


30 

IV. 

Dipping Candles . 

. 


44 

V. 

What Happened on 

Thanksgiving 



Day 

. 


58 

VI. 

The Quilting 

• 


72 

VII. 

A Slight Panic . 

• • • 


86 

VIII. 

Dory’s Fate . 

• • • 


98 

IX. 

A Great Day 

• 


1 10 

X. 

The Dark Day and an Accident 


124 

XI. 

An Accident . 

• • 


137 

XII. 

A Wild Adventure 

< « 


150 








“They made funny little rafts and pad- 
dled ABOUT IN THE CELLAR ” {See Page 
T4g) ...... Frontispiece 

“ Followed after his twin sister, just as 

FAST AS he could GO ” . . . . lO 

“ Presently came riding up Captain Lem 

Taylor” 'hi y 

“Tying a stout ribbon around one loop” 45^ 
“The ’Squire looked very grand” . . 59 

“The recovered Debby stoned raisins and 

PARED apples” ^ 70 

“ Dory had lugged, as he said, ‘ cords of 

wood’” 77'/ 

“ ‘ Let’s go in and have some doughnuts ’ ” 88 

“The bride and groom were tucked into 

their sleigh” 1 1 5 y 

“‘I CLIMBED UP IN THE CHAIR’” . . . 1 27 

“ The twins, as usual, made their gardens ” 152 


* ...A 


I 

4 




THE DOLE TWINS 


CHAPTER 1 . 

CHESTNUTTING 

On the loth of October, 1807, the Dole 
twins, Deborah and Doremus, were twelve 
years old. There were seven other children In 
the Dole family, each of whom occasionally 
had a party on his or her birthday; but 
“ Debby and Dory,” in deference to their proud 
position as twins, always had one, no matter 
what happened. 

“ We have had good parties before,” said 
Dory to his mother a day or two before the 
great event. “ But this time we are going to 
beat any party which has ever been given in 
Birchmont.” 


2 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Mrs. Dole was a tall, fair, pleasant woman. 
She had to speak sharply sometimes to her 
numerous brood, but none of them had ever 
known her to be really “ cross,” and she was 
always working hard in order that they might 
enjoy themselves. 

“ Well,” she said now, “ if you and Debby 
will crack all the nuts and rub all the apples, 
Priscy and Betsey and I will bake the cakes 
and sand the kitchen and get the house in 
order. But you did not help us last year to 
clear it up. This time you must promise to 
clear up after your company.” 

“ Aunt Spiddy will help us,” said Dory, 
confidently. 

“ Aunt Spiddy spoils you and Debby,” 
laughed Mrs Dole. . 

Aunt Spiddy (whose real name was Experi- 
ence) heard this, and she laughed, too. She 
was ’Squire Dole’s youngest sister, who had 
had a bad fall when she was a girl and had 
hurt her back. She had been lame ever since, 
but she could hobble about fairly well on a pair 
of rude crutches, such as most lame people had 
to use in those days. For many years she had 
made it her home at the ’Squire’s and the 


CHESTNUTTING 


3 


whole family loved her dearly. She usually sat 
all day on the “ settle ” near the great fireplace ; 
or, in the coldest weather, on the round dye- 
pot, just inside the fireplace. Tliere she 
knitted, knitted nearly every day in the year 
and all day long on the stockings and mittens 
for the family. As Birchmont, the Massachu- 
setts village near which the Dole farm lay, was 
a cold, cold place, many stockings and mittens 
were needed. You can imagine that Aunt 
Spiddy was kept busy in supplying them. Oh, 
how long and strong and warm those stock- 
ings were] Each one would outwear five or 
six of the modern kind. 

And all the yarn of which the stockings and 
mittens were made, as well as the finer yarn of 
which the girls’ dresses and petticoats and the 
boys’ coats and trousers were woven, was spun 
on the great spinning-wheel which always 
stood in one corner of the vast kitchen — the 
family living-room. 

Then the yarn was dyed with the indigo 
colouring in the round dye-pot. This always 
stood in the very warmest comer. When any 
one came in during the stormy winter days, 
all “ sa’arched with cold,” as they used to say. 


4 


THE DOLE TWINS 


he was set to get warm on that cosy seat; but 
^mtich of the time patient Aunt Spicldy sat 
there, knitting, knitting away, until you would 
almost think that she would turn into a stock- 
ing or a mitten herself. 

It was true that, though Aunt Spiddy dearly 
loved all of her nephews and nieces, the twins 
did seem to have a little stronger hold on her 
affections than any of the others. It was no- 
torious in the family that they could wheedle 
her into doing almost anything. Therefore, 
now, when Dory so confidently affirmed that he 
knew Aunt Spiddy would help them, she said : 
“ You bring me a bag of nuts and a hammer 
and a flat-iron and you will see.” 

Dory and Debby, both of them, hated to 
crack the nuts, so that this was the very sweet- 
est thing Aunt Spiddy could have said to them. 

If Dory had been a modern boy, he would 
probably have replied, respectfully enough, but 
slangily : “ You bet we will ! ” But, though I 
have asked many old people and have consulted 
many books, I cannot find out that the children 
of a hundred years ago used any slang. 
Therefore, they must have escaped many of the 
scoldings which young people get nowadays. 


CHESTNUTTING 


5 


Thus it came about that on the day before 
the party there was no knitting done in the 
Dole family. Aunt Spiddy sat on her warm 
stool in the corner of the great fireplace with a 
flat-iron between her lame knees and cracked 
walnuts and butternuts, most of the day. The 
rest of it she spent in polishing a great basket- 
ful of Hubbardston apples until they shone 
almost like red and yellow looking-glasses. 

October had come in with fine frosty 
weather. Therefore, the chestnut-burrs had 
opened early. While Aunt Spiddy was work- 
ing away at home, the twins, with their 
younger sisters. Thankful and Electa, and the 
two little boys, Hiram and Joshua, were having 
great sport on the hill. 

They had started right after the early break- 
fast, armed with bags and poles ! Boiled chest- 
nuts were esteemed a great delicacy, and the 
twins, who could not have them for their an- 
nual party when the season was late, were de- 
termined to have them this year. Up the tall 
chestnut-trees the boys scrambled like spiders, 
and then they shook and beat the heavily laden 
limbs until showers of burrs and loose chestnuts 
rained down on the little girls. 


6 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ Let’s go Up in the new sheep pasture,” sug- 
gested Debby at last. 

“ I’m afraid,” whimpered Electa. 

“ Oh, sheep don’t hurt ! ” cried her younger 
brother, Hiram. “ We’ve got poles, anyway, 
an’ Dory’ll give ’em fits if they run after us.” 

The sheep had been kept until this year over 
on the Pentland side of the river, where the 
“ Square,” as Mr. Dole was called, and Ben, 
the eldest son, now about seventeen, had taken 
most of the care of them. Sometimes the 
younger children had been allowed to go over 
and salt the sheep, which was great fun. Now 
a new pasture had been made on the hillside 
above the house. It was going to be easier to 
take care of the large flock of sheep there, but 
the younger children had terrible misgivings 
about them, for they, particularly the big ram, 
Jehu, frightened them almost to death. 

“ I’m afraid o’ Jehu,” insisted Electa. 

“ Afraid ! Who’s afraid? ” demanded Dory, 
coming up at just this minute. With one hand 
he was brandishing a pole, while with the other 
Jie hung on to the bag of chestnuts, thrown 
across his shoulder. He looked so big and 


CHESTNUTTING 


7 


brave to the little children that Electa was al- 
most ashamed to repeat her words. 

“ She says she’s afraid,” explained five-year- 
old Joshua. “ She thinks Jehu’ll run at us and 
hook us.” 

“Who cares for Jehu?” bragged Dory, 
swinging his pole around. “ The best chestnuts 
are over in the new sheep pasture. Deb and I 
ain’t afraid. We’ll take care of you little cry- 
babies. Come on ! ” — and Dory jumped over 
the stone wall, which “ the Square ” and Ben 
and he had been working on ever since the 
apples had been harvested. 

They started valiantly for the first and big- 
gest tree — but there was a bunch of sheep 
under it, and they showed no signs of budging 
until Dory went right in among them with his 
big stick. Then they scattered unwillingly, and 
the little children timidly came forward. 

“ Lots of burrs, but no nuts. Some one must 
have been here,” reported Debby presently. 

“ Sure as you live,” agreed Dory. “ Let’s 
go up to the big clump yonder.” 

But there were still more sheep up there — 
and in the midst of them, almost twice as big 
as any of the others, and looking, to the 


8 


THE DOLE TWINS 


younger children, like a bloodthirsty monster, 
towered old Jehu. To tell the truth. Dory him- 
self, in his inmost soul, did not fancy Jehu’s 
look, “a little bit;” but commanding the 
others to hold back a minute, he dropped his 
half-filled bag, and with loud cries of “ Go 
’long there ! What you doin’ there ! ” and so 
on, advanced toward the score or so of sheep 
which were browsing under the six great 
chestnut-trees which made up the “ big clump.” 

The sheep did not seem inclined to stir, and 
old Jehu shook his horns threateningly; but 
Dory felt that the eyes of his little world were 
on him, and stood his ground. Heartened by 
his example, Debby came up beside him, shout- 
ing and shaking a stick also — and the sheep 
finally made off. 

Then Thankful and the others hurried for- 
ward, very pale, and watching the scampering 
sheep apprehensively. As well as they could, 
with half their attention fixed on Jehu, they 
began then to forage for nuts. 

“ Lots o’ burrs here, too — but mighty few 
nuts,” remarked Dory, after poking around for 
a few minutes. ‘‘ Here, Hi, get up on that 
limb there and bang us down a few.” 


CHESTNUTTING 


9 


Little Hiram was glad to climb up into one 
of the trees. Two or three of them had limbs 
near the ground, and presently the four 
younger children were safely up in the trees, 
while Dory and Debby alone were left to pick 
up the nuts. 

They had forgotten about the sheep, and 
were chatting quietly, and fast filling their 
bags, when they heard a sudden tumult. 
Debby had just said that everybody liked 
boiled chestnuts better than anything else, so 
that the party was sure to be a great success — 
when, turning at the sudden rushing noise, she 
gave a shriek and began to run toward the 
high stone wall. As she ran, she shouted back 
to the little children : “ St-ay up in the 

tr-r-e-e-s! Stay up in the tr-r-ees! Come, 
Dory, come quick — quick ! ” 

For there was a huddling, scrambling, irreg- 
ular pack of sheep charging directly up the hill- 
side, toward the chestnut-trees. In front of 
them, and leading them, just as a general is 
supposed to lead his army, dashed big, ugly old 
Jehu. He was shaking his horns and roaring, 
while the whole flock were baa-ing at a tre- 
mendous rate. 


lO 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Dory had given his stick to Hiram, and there 
was no weapon in sight, except a few loose 
stones. He picked these up and flung them 
tremblingly at the old ram; but he was truly 
scared almost to death, and the stones might 
have been aimed almost anywhere for all 
the execution that they did. They certainly 
did not hit the warlike Jehu, nor even daunt 
him. He kept right on in “ a bee-line ” for 
Dory, uttering more frightful noises than ever, 
until that brave youngster, for all his proud 
boasts, turned and followed after his twin sis- 
ter, just as fast as he could go. He knew that 
the four little ones were all right, so long as 
they stayed up in the trees ; but he feared that 
they might faint away and tumble down in 
their fright. Therefore he, too, called out to 
them : “ Hang on, now ! Don’t you try to get 
down! We’ll bring fa-a-ather!” — and then 
he never looked behind him until he was well 
fortified by the stone wall. 

He came bounding over it only an instant 
after Debby. Then the two dared to look 
backward. They had fancied that the sheep 
were close at their heels, but no! They had 
stopped under the clump of chestnut-trees — 


CHESTNUTTING 


II 


and there they had remained, browsing about, 
just as they had been at first. 

“ I believe they are eating the chestnuts,” 
Debby burst forth. 



“ Sheep don’t eat chestnuts,” declared Dory. 
“ You don’t know all about sheep,” asserted 
Debby, with perfect good - nature, though 
breathless from her hard run. 

“ I never heard of it, anyhow.” 


12 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“My! Hear those children cry!” mused 
Debby. “ I don’t want to face that old Jehu 
again, do you? You go down and get father 
and Ben, and I’ll stay up here and call to the 
children, and try and get them quiet.” 

“ No, I’ll do that. You run down to the 
house.” 

Down there, Mrs. Dole was just drawing 
from the oven — a vast “ brick oven,” built 
into the great chimney, beside and somewhat 
above the fireplace — some thin, flat boards, 
on which were dozens of beautifully baked 
caraway cookies for the party. Priscy had 
been sweeping the floor. Near by was a pail 
of clean white sand from the river-bank. 
Presently she was going to spread this sand on 
the floor and draw a herring-bone pattern in 
it. Betsey, who was fourteen, was at the big 
spinning-wheel in the corner, stepping briskly 
back and forth, as spinners do, while she held 
the ball of wool in her hand. Crack, crack, 
crack, went Aunt Spiddy’s faithful hammer. 

Upon this peaceful scene fiery, breathless lit- 
tle Debby burst like a cannon-ball. 

“Blurry! Get father! It’s old Jehu! Oh, 
the children are crying so! They’re in the 


CHESTNUTTING 


13 


trees ! And — mother — sheep do eat chest- 
nuts, don’t they ? ” 

Down dropped the hammer to the floor. 
The cookies came near following after them. 
Priscy’s broom tumbled over, and Betsey’s nice 
yarn snapped, while her wheel went on buzzing 
aimlessly. 

“ What in the name of all the elements ! ” 
began Mrs. Dole. 

But by this time Debby had rushed through 
the kitchen into her father’s office, which was 
the big east front room. “ The Square ” 
owned a farm, like most of his neighbours, but 
he was, first of all, the village lawyer, and the 
office wall was covered with great cases full of 
law and other books. Debby was pretty sure 
that she should find him in there, puzzling over 
some case — and she was right. 

In two minutes more the whole family, ex- 
cepting Mrs. Dole 'and Aunt Spiddy, were 
clambering up to the sheep pasture. Then it 
was not long before old Jehu and his train 
were driven far down the hillside by the com- 
bined forces, who had come fully armed with 
all sorts of weapons. Jehu himself was 
soundly thrashed, and a poke was put upon 


14 


THE DOLE TWINS 


him. A poke is a yoke, with a thick stick pro- 
jecting from it, straight out in front. An ani- 
mal wearing a poke cannot jump walls or 
fences, and cannot easily “ hook ” other ani- 
mals. Then the weeping children were helped 
down from the trees. But oh, oh, oh, for the 
boiled chestnuts at the party! 

Pentland, on the other side of the Deerfield 
River, beside which lay the Dole Farm, had 
almost no chestnut-trees. It was considered 
the prime place for pasturing sheep, and 
nearly every fanner who kept any sheep in 
Birchmont owned or rented a pasture for the 
purpose in Pentland. Consequently it hap- 
pened that ’Squire Dole did not know any 
more than Dory did that sheep would eat 
chestnuts. The sheep were usually brought 
down from the pastures anyway before the 
chestnut burrs burst. But this year the frosts 
had come early, and, for the first time in his 
life, the ’Squire had pastured his flocks on the 
chestnut side of the river. 

Thus he learned, as did the whole family, 
that sheep will eat chestnuts voraciously. And, 
oh ! how bitterly this truth was impressed upon 
Dory and Debby ! For they had dropped their 


CHESTNUTTING 


15 


nearly filled bags in their fright — and the 
greedy, greedy sheep had eaten up every 
single chestnut which had been gathered by 
the hard labour of the Dole children during 
the entire morning. 


CHAPTER IL 

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 

In spite of the fact that there were no boiled 
chestnuts at the party, there were heaps of 
walnuts and butternuts, two big dish-pans full 
of bright red apples, scores of delicious cara- 
way cookies, and plenty of sweet cider. 

Dory had himself picked over the apples for 
this cider. Then he had harnessed old Trotty, 
the faithful twenty-year-old horse, and had 
hauled load after load of his carefully assorted 
apples to the cider-press of a good neighbour 
named Nat Bacon. Then he had helped again 
to haul the barrels of cider back to the Dole 
cellar. As every family cooked a barrel of 
boiled cider apple-sauce in the fall, and as all 
vinegar was made at home, a great deal of 
cider was provided in every family. When 
this cider became hard, it was as intoxicating 

i6 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


17 


as whiskey, and did much harm. But ’Squire 
Dole was a temperate man, even in those 
times,. when the best men drank rum and cider 
brandy. Later, in the twenties of the last 
century, he was one of the foremost in the 
great “ teetotal ” movement, which was the 
forerunner of the excellent “ temperance ” 
societies of various kinds, which do so much 
good to-day. 

By four o’clock the children began to come 
to the party. By a half-hour later several 
games were on foot, with much noise and 
laughter, in the great kitchen. Debby and 
Dory were rushing here and there trying to 
see that everybody was happy. 

“ Who’ll play Fox and Geese with Betsey? ” 
Debby was asking. “ She’s made a new board 
on purpose. She is crazy about Fox and 
Geese.” 

This was a quiet game, but some of the older 
ones, of Betsey’s age, liked it as well as she. 
Just across the Deerfield from the Doles lay 
the farm of Josiah Mellen. A big family and 
a merry one lived in the generous Mellen farm- 
house, and every one of the ten children, ex- 
cept the three-year-old baby, had come to the 


i8 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Dole party. By a singular coincidence (or 
perhaps it might be called a double coinci- 
dence) there was also a pair of twins in the 
Mellen family, but they were both of them 
girls, and they were of the age of little Hiram 
Dole — about seven. Their names, were Re- 
pose and Relief, but they were always called 
Posy and Liefy. Of course, they were on 
hand. They were full of fun, and were mak- 
ing very lively, indeed, the game of “Button, 
Button,” in which the youngsters of their age 
were engaged. 

Everybody giggled when Captain Lemuel 
Taylor came in, just before five, when the re- 
freshments were to be served. Captain Lem- 
uel Taylor was the son of one of the most 
respected farmers in town, and he came every 
Sunday night to visit Priscy Dole — “ keeping 
company ” with her, as people said in those 
days. 

“ How do you do. Captain Lem ? ” said 
Debby, with some surprise, as he walked in, all 
dressed in his best homespun clothes. “ I 
didn’t know you were coming to our party.” 

“ Yes,” laughed Captain Lem, very red in 
the face. “ You didn’t invite me, and that hurt 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


19 


my feelings a good deal, but Aunt Spiddy was 
afraid nobody would play Hull-Gull with her 
if I didn’t come — so I came to oblige her.” 

In spite of the racket which the younger 
children were making, all of the older ones 
heard this little conversation, and then they 
looked at Priscy, who was blushing. They 
did not know but that Captain Lem told the 
exact truth, for he sat down beside Aunt 
Spiddy, having first asked Priscy and the 
’Squire to join in a game of Hull-Gull. It was 
a bitter cold day for the season and they were 
glad to gather around the warm corner where 
Aunt Spiddy occupied her usual place. 

“ It is such a comfort to play Hull-Gull 
with somebody who doesn’t cheat ! ” said Cap- 
tain Lem, politely. 

“Yes — I’m afraid there is some cheating 
done at Hull-Gull nowadays, just as there 
used to be when I was young,” admitted Aunt 
Spiddy. 

“ You begin, Miss Spiddy,” continued he. 

So Aunt Spiddy gathered up a handful of 
beans from a quantity which Captain Lem had 
tossed into her lap, and then, passing one 


20 


THE DOLE TWINS 


folded hand rapidly over and over the other, 
said : 

‘‘ Hull, grill, hand full, parcel how many?” 

The ’Squire, who was next her, had to guess 
how many beans she was holding in her hand. 
If he should guess more than the actual num- 
ber, he had to make up the amount from his 
own hand; if he should guess less, the case was 
reversed. If the guess was just right, then the 
holder had to pass over the whole handful of 
beans to the lucky guesser. It can be readily 
seen that if the player could only manage to 
leave the bean-holding hand uppermost when 
he finished his rhyme, he could drop into the 
lower one enough beans to spoil the guess of 
his next neighbour, if the guess should happen 
to be just right. There were several little ways 
of cheating in Hull-Gull — as there are in 
most games. 

“ Ten,” guessed the ’Squire, at a venture. 

This was a very large guess — almost wild 
— for one could hardly hold more than five or 
six beans comfortably in the hand. Besides, 
the safest way was to guess low. 

“Give me six beans!” cried Aunt Spiddy, 
triumphantly ; for the one who should hold the 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


21 


most beans at the end, won. And those who 
had to part with all their beans had to sit still 
without speaking until the game was finished, 
or else pay a forfeit. 

Dory was immoderately fond of Twelve 
Men Morrice, and knew how to make beautiful 
boards for it. As it was a very popular game 
among the older children, there was at almost 
every party a group playing Twelve Men 
Morrice, with thoughtful, absorbed faces. It 
was played upon a flat board, usually made 
round. On this board, with a pencil or pen or 
paint-brush, was drawn a design something 
like an exaggerated “ tit, tat, too ” diagram, 
with complications. Each player had twelve 
men. These could be “ jumped ” and taken, as 
in draughts, or “ checkers.” In one corner of 
the kitchen near the spinning-wheel, four boys 
had withdrawn themselves in order to play this 
game to-day. Two. were playing checkers. 
Still another group was playing “ Odd or 
Even?” 

This was played with beans or grains of 
corn, just as Hull-Gull was, but as the 
grains were held out in one hand, while the 
other hand had to be in the lap, it was harder 


22 


THE DOLE TWINS 


to cheat in “Odd or Even?” In this game, 
the exact number of grains did not have to be 
guessed, but only whether it was odd or even. 
It was a livelier game, because, naturally, the 
grains changed owners very fast. 

Shortly after five o’clock all of these diver- 
sions were brought to an end by the serving 
of the refreshments. As there were more than 
forty young people present, and all had excel- 
lent appetites, the preparations which had been 
made to feed them proved to be none too 
ample. 

After they had all eaten as much as they 
possibly could (the favourite edible being hot 
toasted bread, fresh from the great fireplace 
and crumbed into cups of hot cider) the mer- 
riment became faster than ever. It was the 
fashion in those days to play “ kissing ” games, 
two of the most popular being “ Twirl the 
Platter ” and “ Wink ’em Slyly,” both still 
played in remote parts of the country. Danc- 
ing is generally considered in these days a 
more modest and suitable diversion than these 
old games. 

But the great game, and the one with which 
the parties usually closed, was “ Packsaddle.” 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


23 


It had to be played with care, or else the home- 
spun frocks and gauze aprons of the girls, 
which had cost infinite toil and pains on the 
part of their mothers and older sisters, would 
“ come to grief.” The boys sometimes burned 
and “ smooched ” themselves at it, too. 

After there had been a hard fifteen minutes 
of running around the chimney at “ Wink ’em 
Slyly,” and Captain Lem Taylor had kissed 
Priscy Dole at least five times, Betsey began to 
shout, “ Packsaddle ! Packsaddle ! ” and the 
cry was taken up by many others. Then the 
whole company fonned in a ring extending 
around the entire room. 

“ There’s just the right brand for it over in 
the corner of the fireplace,” said Aunt Spiddy ; 
“ but you must be very careful, children ; 
there’s a good deal of fire in it.” 

Ben Dole took the brand by the end. which 
was still fairly cool, and quite untouched by the 
flames, and handed it gallantly to pretty Dolly 
(Dorothy) Mellen, who was about Betsey’s 
age, and stood next him. As he did so, he 
said : 

“ Robin ’s alive ; live let him be. 

If he dies in my hand you may packsaddle me.” 


24 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Dolly passed it on, still aflame, to the next 
player, and so on. In a large company the fire 
must inevitably die out before the brand has 
gone around twice — sometimes before it has 
gone around once — no matter how it is waved 
and blown upon and otherwise coaxed to keep 
alight. The one in whose hand the last spark 
goes out must lie down on the floor and allow 
as many light tables, chairs, boxes, and other 
available kinds of furniture to be piled on him 
as possible. At the twins’ party Chatty 
(Charity) Mellen, a very nice girl, a little older 
than Ben Dole, had to be packsaddled, and so 
did Dory and two or three others. 

By the time this game was ended by the 
absolute lack of suitable brands, it was nearly 
eight o’clock and quite dark. The young 
people felt that it was time to go home; but 
Daphne Bacon, the daughter of the cider-press 
owner (he did not make all the cider, for many 
farmers had their own presses), had just come 
home from a visit to a neighbouring town, and 
she said she had played a new game there 
which she wanted to introduce into Birchmont. 

“ Yes, tell us about it,” they all cried. 

“ I can’t explain it very well,” said Daphne, 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


25 


“ but if you will all do just as I say, you will 
soon understand it.” 

“ We will, we will,” came from all sides. 

Upon this. Daphne began to arrange the 
party around the room, each one being set in 
some strange attitude, and bidden not to move 
until she should give the word. 

Li (Elias) Mellen, who was Dory’s age, 
was put on his hands and knees in one corner. 
Susan Dilway, the minister’s daughter, had to 
stand by the fire with her hands outspread, as 
if she were wanning them. The little Mellen 
twins had to stand with their arms affection- 
ately wound around each other’s necks. Debby 
was placed in a chair, and made to hold little 
“ Thank ” and “ Lecty ” in her lap. Ben Dole 
had to grasp a handful of Captain Lem’s hair 
as if he were going to pull it — which made 
much fun, as Captain Lem kept saying that 
Ben really was doing it. This caused such a 
distressed expression to come on Priscy’s face 
that everybody noticed it and, of course, 
laughed all the harder. 

One boy was forced to hang by his hands 
from a stout pole which was laid across the 
kitchen beams. Another had to kneel down 


26 


THE DOLE TWINS 


on a very uncomfortable stick of wood. 
Others had to stand with their mouths open or 
with one foot up or with bodies bent backward 
or sideways very uncomfortably — and all of 
these kept saying, “ Hurry ! Hurry ! ” for 
nobody must stir until the lordly Miss Daphne 
said so. 

At last she announced gravely, “ In just a 
minute I will clap my hands and then you must 
all say, ‘ Oho, oho ! ’ as loud as you can.” 

You can imagine what a noise they made 
when she did clap her hands. Then there was 
a pause. 

“ What next ? ” asked the boy who was 
hanging from the beam, and who was begin- 
ning to ache all over. 

“ The name of the game,” announced 
Daphne, laughing, “ is ‘ Love’s Labour Lost,’ 
and now it is all done ! ” 

Some of the party were angry at this, but 
most of them laughed, and declared that they 
would direct a game of “ Love’s Labour Lost ” 
in the same way as soon as they could get a 
chance. 

“Not when we are around!” grumbled 
some of the cross ones. 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


27 


But they separated in fine spirits, and said 
they had had a perfectly glorious time — 
“ the best ever.” 

Then occurred something which seemed to 
be very unfortunate — but it really had some 
good consequences — as you will see before 
this story is finished. 

The Dole family were trying to clear things 
up in the disordered kitchen after the last of 
the revellers had gone. They did not expect to 
put everything to rights, but there was much 
which really had to be done before the older 
ones could go to bed. Of course, the two little 
boys were packed off to their trundle-bed, 
which was under the big bed in their mother’s 
room by day and was pulled out at night ; and 
the two little girls had been tucked into a 
similar trundle-bed in the large upper room 
which was devoted to the girls. In one corner 
of this room' was a small cot, on which Debby 
dreamed away her nights until she was pro- 
moted to the high-posted, canopied couch in 
another comer, by the departure of Priscy to 
a home of her own — of which you will hear 
later. 

Aunt Spiddy was hobbling about on her 


28 


THE DOLE TWINS 


rude crutches, trying, as she always would, to 
help, when one of her crutches slipped on some 
cider which had been carelessly spilled, and 
down she went with a groan. 

When the ’Squire and Ben helped her up she 
was found to be quite badly hurt, so that Priscy 
and Debby undressed her and put her to bed. 
Debby waited to do the last services for her. 
As she kissed her good night. Aunt Spiddy 
said : “Iff could afford to get some crutches 
like old Lady Barron’s I shouldn’t slip. 
There’s something on the bottom of them that 
holds. But they’re fancy crutches and cost too 
much for me.” 

‘‘How much do you suppose?” asked 
Debby. 

“ Oh, like enough ten dollars or more,” 
sighed Aunt Spiddy, “ but don't you tell your 
father or mother what I said. They have their 
hands more than full now. They do too much 
for me as ’tis — and money’s scarce. If I 
wasn’t dreadfully careless I never should slip. 
I’m ashamed I ever complained of my good old 
crutches. They’re good enough — plenty 
good enough. Now, child — don’t you ever 


THE BIRTHDAY PARTY 


29 


mention this to your father and mother — re- 
member.” 

Debby promised. But when she lay down 
that night in her little cot-bed, on top of all 
the exciting thoughts of the party came deeper 
thoughts of dear Aunt Spiddy and her unto- 
ward accident. 

“ She was too tired. That was why she 
slipped,” reflected Debby, with a little choke in 
her throat. “ She had worked so hard for the 
party that she got too tired. Oh, if I only was 
rich, I would buy her some crutches — the best 
in the world. Dory would, too. If he and I 
should try hard we might, perhaps — but, no,” 
thought practical little Debby, “ we never, 
never could earn ten dollars ! ” 

It seemed at first thought like an utterly un- 
attainable sum — but she reflected that she 
had not promised that she would not tell Dory 
— and she determined to talk the matter over 
with him the very next morning. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE MUSTERING 

Mrs. Dole kept the twins busy until the 
noon dinner the next day in “ straig-htening 
out ” the house, after the rather riotous pro- 
ceedings of the party. As there was at that 
time scarcely a servant kept in Birchmont, and 
there were no “ charwomen ” who could come 
in and help “ by the day,” people had to do all 
their “ own work,” as the saying is. The Rev- 
olution had left the colonies poor. Most of the 
inhabitants were God-fearing and hard-work- 
ing, but even the highly educated among them 
had little money, and, like the Doles, led what 
would now be called “ the simple life ” — only 
it was much simpler than anybody, unless it 
might be a second Henry Thoreau, would be 
willing to lead in these days. 

So Debby and Dory had to work hard all 
30 


THE MUSTERING 


31 


that next morning. After dinner they were al- 
lowed to go chestnutting on the hill. This time 
they did not take the little ones with them. 

There had been a long term of summer 
school, and now there was a recess until after 
Thanksgiving, when the long winter term 
would begin. The children were making the 
most of their holidays. 

“ Let’s not go in the sheep pasture,” sug- 
gested Debby, as they climbed upward. 

“ No,” agreed Dory, with affected bravado. 
“ I don’t care a straw for that old Jehu, now 
that he’s got a poke on — but the sheep clean 
up the chestnuts so fast, that we had better go 
where they haven’t been at ’em.” 

“ And I don’t want to be disturbed any- 
way,” went on Debby, “ because I want to talk 
over something with you. I want your ad- 
vice.” 

This flattered Dory. He adored Debby, with 
her bright black eyes, fair, pretty skin, and 
bright mind. He was a modest boy, and felt 
that he was not so “ smart ” as she was. In 
one way he was not; but, though he was not 
quite so quick, he had better judgment and a 
certain hard common sense which Debby 


32 


THE DOLE TWINS 


lacked. She appreciated this, and showed it. 
The twins .quarrelled sometimes, but on the 
whole, they were really fonder of each other 
than most brothers and sisters are. 

“ When we g-et up to the woods I will tell 
you, but not before,” said Debby, in a very 
confidential tone. “ It is such a private matter 
that we mustn’t let anybody on earth hear us.” 

“ Goodness, Deb ! ” whispered Dory, under 
his breath. He was almost crazy with curiosity 
by this time, but Debby only looked more 
mysterious than ever and hurried on toward 
the woods. 

When they had come to a place where the 
chestnut-trees were quite thick, Debby conde- 
scended to begin her disclosures. 

“ Who made old Lady Barron’s crutches?” 
she inquired. 

“ I guess Dr. Barron’s brother — that rich 
merchant who lives in Boston — bought them 
in town.” 

“ Oh, dear! I wonder how much they cost.” 

“ Sights of money, probably,” opined Dory. 
“ Who wants any crutches? Oh ! ” — remem- 
bering suddenly — “ is it Aunt Spiddy? ” 

“ She said she shouldn’t have slipped if she 


THE MUSTERING 33 

had had crutches like old Lady Barron’s. They 
are ever so much nicer than hers.” 

There was a pause. Debby knew that Dory’s 
slow, g-ood old head was hammering- away at 
the problem which she had sugfgested. 

“ Ben can find out,” he said at last. “ He 
knows Ed Barron so well — and Ed Barron 
must know.” 

Doctor Barron was the village physician, 
whom everybody revered. His mother was a 
stately,- grand old Englishwoman, who had 
lived with him for many years. She had 
broken her hip long ago and was very lame. 
Ed was the doctor’s eldest son and a fine fel- 
low. 

Debby went on to sketch her hopes and as- 
pirations regarding a pair of new crutches 
for Aunt Spiddy. She felt now much more 
, hopeful than she had felt last night. 

“ If it’s only ten dollars,” she said, “ I be- 
lieve by a year from now — or two years, at 
most, you and I could earn it ourselves.” 

“ It’s probably a lot more than ten dollars — 
and I don’t see how you and I could ever earn 
ten dollars anyway.” 

Dory was not nearly so sanguine as Debby. 


34 


THE DOLE TWINS 


She always had to be the one to give the 
courage. 

“ If we lived in Boston now,” proceeded 
Dory, “ or in Springfield or Northampton, we 
might earn something — but here in Birch- 
mont — where even the grown-up men. I’ve 
heard father say, hardly see a dollar in cash 
from one year’s end to another — why. Deb, I 
don’t believe we ever could do it.” 

“ It is coming on to be muster-day next 
week,” remarked the undaunted Debby. 

“ What of that ? ” 

“ The Giles children and Daphne Bacon 
sold cider last year out in front of their house 
to the people that went by — and they got a 
penny a glass — and they made quite a good 
deal. There are such sights of people around 
on muster-day ! ” 

“ Father wouldn’t let us sell cider.” 

“ Well — there are other things besides 
cider. Now boiled chestnuts.” 

“ Oh — chestnuts are thicker’n spatter,” 
objected Dory. “ Everybody will have his 
pockets full.” 

“ But they won’t be boiled, and we will have 
’em boiled just right — and — and — if we 


THE MUSTERING 


35 


sell my little tin cup full for a cent — we can 
make a lot — maybe.” 

“ Maybes don’t fly at muster-time,” scoffed 
Dory. 

“ And if we pick out lol,s of meats from wal- 
nuts and butternuts,” went on Debby, bravely, 
knowing that Dory would probably make fun 
of this new idea, too, “ I think a good many 
people would pay a cent for a cupful of them.” 

“ It’s an awful sight of bother to pick out a 
cupful of nut-meats,” grumbled Dory. 

“ I hate it as much as you do,” confessed 
Debby. “ But if we are going to earn ten dol- 
lars, we have got to work, and we have got to 
do things that don’t cost us anything. And 
there are bushels of nuts left up in the garret 
from last year — and the new ones will be in 
right away and by Thanksgiving they will be 
good to eat — so if we can use these up, it will 
be clear gain.” 

“ We will have to tell what we are doing it 
for, and you promised you wouldn’t tell father 
or mother.” 

“ We can just say we are trying to earn 
some money to get something — something 
they would like us to get — and since we have 


36 


THE DOLE TWINS 


got to tell Ben, why, he will tell them it is all 
right.” 

The twentieth was muster-day, at that 
time the greatest day of the year in Birchmont. 
Not quite so much v as made there then as now 
of the Fourth of July, because muster-day 
partly took its place. 

In the morning of muster-day, the church- 
bells were rung and the old swivel was let off 
many times from the top of Fort Hill. This 
was a green eminence in the very centre of the 
village, where a fort had stood in the old In- 
dian times. Everybody was around in his best 
clothes. Teams and people on foot began to 
fill the roads long before daybreak. The whole 
air was full of excitement. Everybody who 
owned an old Queen’s arm had it out, firing it 
off as often as he felt like affording powder 
for the purpose. 

On this particular muster-day, on the front 
doorstep of the Dole mansion, wrapped warmly 
and each hugging her cob doll, sat Thankful 
and Electa Dole, while Hiram and Joshua 
dashed hither and yon. Dory was superintend- 
ing a table, in front of the gate, neatly spread 
with dishes, containing quantities of tempt- 



“ PRESENTLY CAME RIDING UP CAPTAIN LEM TAYLOR.” 



THE MUSTERING 


39 


ingly prepared nut-meats. Ben had already de- 
parted for the village, as he belonged to the 
militia company, of which Lemuel Taylor was 
the captain. 

Presently came riding up Captain Lem 
Taylor himself, looking very handsome and 
imposing in his uniform. As he saw the table 
out in front of the Doles’, he stopped in sur- 
prise. 

“ What’s this, Dory? ” he called out. 

“ Debby and I are earning money. We are 
going to buy something. It’s a secret — but 
it’s awfully nice and important.” 

“ Those nut - meats look good. How 
much ? ” 

“ A cent a cupful. And there’s just a cupful 
in each of these brown paper envelopes — same 
price. We thought some might like to take 
them right out of the cup — and some would 
want to have them in paper — and not 
want to wait to have them wrapped up. We 
made the envelopes with flour paste that Priscy 
cooked for us.” 

Whether Dory was artful in his mention of 
Priscy at just that juncture, who can tell? All 


40 


THE DOLE TWINS 


that we know is that Captain Lem was moved 
to remark : 

“ Give me ten cups full.” 

Dory gasped, and Debby, who was just com- 
ing out from the house with some fresh boiled 
chestnuts, almost dropped them in her palpita- 
tion. 

“ Give me a lot of those boiled chestnuts, 
too,” demanded Captain Lem. “ You can put 
the meats into paper. But you can drop the 
chestnuts into one of my big pockets. They’ll 
be gone before long. And aren’t you going up 
to see the men march ? ” 

“ Not unless we sell out,” said Dory, 
pluckily. As is often the case with people 
who are slowly won to a cause, he was even 
fiercer now in his desire to get money for the 
crutches than was Debby herself. 

“ Well, you must want your money dread- 
fully,” laughed the young man, 

“ We do.” 

“ But you won’t have any gingerbread.” 

Gingerbread was the great staple food at the 
musterings. 

“ Mother has baked about ten big cards of 
gingerbread,” smiled Debby. “ And there are 


THE MUSTERING 


41 


pies and pies all over the pantry shelves, and a 
big dish of apple custard, and a fresh box of 
honey is open — and we sha’n’t starve.” 

“ If everybody that comes along will buy as 
much as you do, we shall be sold out pretty 
soon,” added Dory. 

“ I hope they will, I am sure,” laughed the 
young man. He looked sharply around, but 
Miss Priscy Dole did not show herself. She 
knew that he was there, but she was arraying 
herself with unusual splendour for the muster- 
ing and she intended to see him later on. 

Nobody else bought so much as Captain 
Lem. The Taylors were well-to-do and were 
free spenders, and just now Captain Lem did 
not mind being a little extra generous to the 
Dole children, for obvious reasons. 

The twins had truly worked over their nuts 
until they were almost ill. But the excitement 
and delight were keeping them up, as they 
found that nearly everybody who went by, see- 
ing the neat table and the tidy little bags of nut- 
meats and the nice boiled chestnuts, still warm, 
bought one or more bags of each. 

At ten o’clock the militia were to form in 
front of the church. Then they marched to 


42 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Warner’s Flat, a big, level meadow close at 
hand. 

There prayer was offered. Then there were 
marching and countermarching and all sorts 
of evolutions, while the drum and fife rumbled 
and squeaked their loudest. 

Around the parade-ground were scores of 
booths at which gingerbread and sugar toys 
and many other things were sold. Especially 
were all kinds of drinks provided in abundance 
at a small price; for the dust and exercise and 
excitement made everybody thirsty. Some of 
these drinks were harmless, but more were not. 
There was sure to be a great deal of drunken- 
ness on muster-day. Men who would keep 
sober all the rest of the year would transgress 
then, and much sorrow and loss of property 
were caused by the revelry on muster-day. 
The dissipation at such times became at last so 
shocking that many were glad when the old 
musterings were given up. 

Dory and Debby did not get their stock sold 
and their furniture put away in time to join in 
the earliest festivities, but long before the sol- 
diers had finished their parade, the Dole twins, 
more happy and triumphant than they had ever 


THE MUSTERING 


43 


been before, appeared on Warner’s Flat. They 
had actually made seventy-seven cents from 
their speculation in nuts. And, better than all, 
they had had a taste of the joy of really doing 
something of consequence. 

Their experience had given them confidence, 
too, and, perhaps best of all, it had made their 
minds fertile in ideas. They had some new 
schemes now for making money, and presently 
you shall hear what they were. 


CHAPTER IV. 


DIPPING CANDLES 

All of the twins’ plans were postponed for 
a few days by certain events over which they 
had no control. The morning after the mus- 
tering Debby was awakened by a peculiar and 
disagreeable smell. Priscy was already 
dressed and down-stairs, but Betsey was still 
before the glass, shivering with the cold as she 
folded the braids of her long hair neatly in a 
double loop at each side of her head. 

“ That smells like candles,” groaned Debby. 

“ Your sense of smell is all right,” answered 
Betsey, tying a stout ribbon around one loop 
with a jerk. 

“ Oh, I didn’t know mother was going to 
dip candles to-day ! ” 

“ If you and Dory hadn’t been so crazy over 
your nuts, you might have seen us all winding 
the rods for two days before muster.” 

44 



“ TYING A STOUT RIBBON AROUND ONE LOOP 






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dipping candles 


47 


Each candle-rod was between two and three 
feet long. The “ wicking ” was cut off in 
lengths twice as long as a candle should be. 
Then it was laid over the rod, exactly in the 
middle, and the two parts were twisted to- 
gether. It was a great deal of work to get a 
half-dozen or more twisted wicks on each rod 
ready for the dipping. 

“ Yes,” continued Betsey, “ you slipped 
nicely out of all that wicking business. 
Mother and Priscy and I have wound five hun- 
dred candles, and now Priscy and I have got 
to spin and sew most of the day. Miss Debby 
Dole is going to dip candles.” 

Debby did not feel just right. She had 
•eaten a great deal of gingerbread and apple 
custard and boiled chestnuts and other dainties 
the day before, and she had worked so hard for 
a week in order to earn that precious seventy- 
seven cents that she had probably tired herself 
all out. Now she had got to put on her old 
blue woollen apron, high-necked and long- 
sleeved, and sit in the cold back kitchen for 
hours, dipping those nasty old candles! She 
shivered to think of it, and turned over in the 
bed. 


48 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ I really do feel bad,” she whispered to 
herself, “ but if I say anything they will think 
that I am trying to get out of dipping the 
candles — and then, besides, mother will give 
me picra.” 

Every household in Birchmont gathered 
each spring and summer its store of herbs, to 
use in sickness; and picra was the medicine of 
all that Debby hated worst. From a certain 
pole in the kitchen at this moment hung dry- 
ing, to be put away in a certain chest after 
Thanksgiving, great bunches of fever-bush, for 
fevers; goldthread, for sore throat; boneset, 
for biliousness; and saffron, bloodroot, sage, 
wormwood, and many other herbs supposed to 
cure all sorts of disorders. Hops, wintergreen,* 
comfrey, sassafras, princess pine, and dried 
pumpkin were used, not only for medicine, but 
for flavouring the root beer, which every fam- 
ily constantly kept on hand. 

Debby felt that it was a choice with her be- 
tween picra and the candles. She chose the 
candles, and presently she appeared down in 
the kitchen, where a cheerful blaze in the fire- 
place brightened the dense darkness of the 
early morning. That blaze shed far more 


DIPPING CANDLES 


49 


light than did the two candles upon the table, 
which was set neatly at one side of the room. 

Of Mrs. Dole it might truly be said, “ She 
riseth while it is yet night and giveth meat to 
her household and a portion to her maidens.” 
For it was now only six o’clock and she had 
been up for an hour or more. The ’Squire and 
Ben had been up quite as long. They had 
done the chores at the barn, with Dory’s help; 
and before going out there the ’Squire had un- 
covered the great backlog, which had been 
buried in ashes the night before and was now 
a mass of glowing coals. As there were no 
matches in those days, and as it often took 
some time to raise a spark with the flint and 
tinder, every family tried to keep the coals alive 
in the big fireplace from one night to another. 
Here and there an air-tight stove was to be 
found. Nearly every town had its “ furnace,” 
where iron kettles and utensils were made, and 
sometimes the man who “ ran ” this had skill 
enough to make a stove ; or, at what seemed a 
reckless price, one was sometimes imported 
from the city. But in most of the houses the 
great kitchen fireplace (with perhaps three or 
four other fireplaces in other parts of the house 


50 


THE DOLE TWINS 


and those seldom lighted) was the only means 
available for heating or for cooking. 

Potatoes were not much raised in those days 
and were used chiefly in the making of starch. 
Tea and coffee were regarded as luxuries. 
Corn-meal mush, smooth, thoroughly cooked, 
delicious, was largely eaten, with milk, for 
breakfast. 

A day or two before “ muster,” every well- 
to-do family usually slaughtered a sheep, a 
“ beef ” or a pig. A sheep had been killed by 
the ’Squire, so that there was meat this morn- 
ing for breakfast. 

Debby did not eat much of the good break- 
fast, which was accompanied by johnny-cake. 
“What’s the matter, Debby?” asked Aunt 
Spiddy, who had recovered from her hurt 
sufficiently to be about again as usual. 

“ Nothing,” said Debby, faintly, and with 
visions of picra, so to speak, burning her 
tongue. 

“ She knows she has got to dip candles,” 
commented Betsey, heartlessly. 

Now Betsey was a kind girl generally, but in 
large families it is often the case that those 
nearest of an age are rudest to each other. 


DIPPING CANDLES 


51 


Betsey and Debby were not infrequently at 
odds, while Priscy and Debby were always on 
the most affectionate terms. 

“ Debby doesn’t mind,” said Priscy. 
“ Debby is a worker. You spent seventy-seven 
cents yesterday, while Dory and Debby made 
it. You had better not talk, Betsey Dole! ” 

Debby smiled a little, but she was pretty 
pale. Mrs. Dole thought that that was only 
natural after all the excitement, however, and, 
as soon as breakfast was over, the dipping 
began. 

Out in the large, cold, back kitchen, pretty 
nearly all of the wooden chairs in the house 
were gathered. The rods were laid across 
these, as soon as they had been dipped. 

A great iron kettle full of hot melted tallow 
was brought out. Six candles could be dipped 
at once into this kettle. Then the rod on which 
they hung was laid across two chairs. A row 
of six or eight rods could be laid across every 
two chairs. Oh, how Mrs. Dole had to hurry 
to dip as many as possible into the tallow be- 
fore it grew too cold I Debby and her little 
sisters ran back and forth handing the rods to 
their mother. The floor was covered with strips 


52 


THE DOLE TWINS 


of old cloth and burlaps, on which more or 
less of the tallow was bound to drip. It was all 
just as uncomfortable and ill-smelling as it 
could be. But when the great boxes of good 
candles were finished and laid away, everybody 
realized that they were worth all the trouble. 
It was not until Debby grew to be a woman 
that candle-moulds were invented. Whale-oil 
lamps came in at about the same time. Then 
followed the dangerous “ fluid ” lamps. Kero- 
sene, gas, electricity — it took a long time for 
them to arrive. 

“Debby! Debby!” called Mrs. Dole from 
the foot of the stairs the next morning. “ You 
know it takes two days to dip candles. Get 
up!” But no DelDby appeared, though the 
older girls had been down-stairs for some time. 

“ Go up-stairs, Thankful, and see what 
makes Debby sleep so,” said the ’Squire. 

“ She’s sick,” reported little Thankful, a 
moment later. “ She says her head aches and 
her throat is sore and her stomach feels bad, 
and it was dipping candles — but I don’t be- 
lieve it was — for Lecty and I helped a lot, 
didn’t we, mother? — and we haven’t got any 
headache.” 


DIPPING CANDLES 


53 


“ Debby has had all the candle-dipping that 
she wants,” remarked Betsey, cynically. 

“ ’Sh, ’sh!” reproved the ’Squire. “You 
had better go up and see what ails the younkit, 
Tirzah,” he said to his wife. 

In a few moments Mrs. Dole came down 
looking very grave. 

“ She has a high fever and looks pretty sick,” 
she said. “ I think picra is what she needs. 
But she cries if you only say ‘ picra ’ to her — 
so 1 think we had better have Doctor Barron.” 

Ben went for the good doctor right after 
breakfast. He felt of Debby’s pulse and 
looked at her tongue. Then he opened his 
great saddle-bags and took out a box of “ blue 
mass,” which he rolled out into half a dozen 
pills. He gave her one of these, advised some 
Dover’s powders — and said that she must 
have — picra all day long ! 

“ Oh, dear! ” sighed Mrs. Dole. “ We have 
to finish the candle-dipping to-day — and it 
seems as if we never should get all the spin- 
ning and weaving done.” 

“ These times will come! ” laughed the doc- 
tor, mysteriously. “ I’ve had daughters mar 
ried myself.” 


54 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ Oh, dear ! ” cried Mrs. Dole again, though 
in a different tone. “ How has it ever got 
out ? ” 

“ Never mind! Never mind! ” chuckled the 
doctor. “ Well, Miss Debby, you mustn’t stay 
sick very long. Your mother and the rest 
have something else to do besides fussing over 
a silly little girl who eats too much ginger- 
bread at muster-time.” 

“ It was dipping candles that made me sick,” 
insisted Debby with conviction. 

Ever since the doctor had come she had 
been longing to ask him a question. Ben could 
never remember to ask Ed Barron how much 
old Lady Barron’s crutches had cost. Ed 
might not have known anyway. The doctor 
was sure to know. Oh, if she only dared to 
ask him! 

Her mother left the room for a moment to 
get something which Doctor Barron wanted. 
Then Debby instantly decided to propound her 
inquiry. 

“ Doctor, will you promise not to think that 
I am queer, if I ask you a question? ” she burst 
forth, intensely. 

The doctor began to laugh. Then he saw 


DIPPING CANDLES 


55 


that the child was serious and he sobered him- 
self, 

“ Of course I will.” 

“And you won’t tell that I asked you? 
Please promise that — for it is very impor- 
tant.” 

“ Very well,” answered the doctor, with 
twinkling eyes, in spite of his solemn tone. 

“ Please tell me how much Lady Barron’s 
beautiful crutches cost,” 

“ What under the sun — ” began the doctor. 
Just then the sound of Mrs. Dole’s returning 
footstqjs was heard, and Debby’s face assumed 
a look of anguish, while tears gathered in her 
eyes. He saw that he must answer at once. 

“ They were pretty dear — twenty dollars.” 

A look of such hopeless dismay shot across 
Debby’s face that he hastened to add, “ But 
they are made of ebony, and upholstered with 
velvet. Some nearly like them could be made 
much cheaper — say, for twelve or fifteen 
dollars.” 

“ Oh ! ” breathed Debby, with relief. 

Mrs. Dole was just entering as the doctor 
added, “ But all you have to do, Miss Debby, 
is just to take your medicine and not fret about 


56 


THE DOLE TWINS 


anything. Better lie still here to-day. To- 
morrow you can go down on the couch in the 
kitchen, if you get along all right.” 

“ It’s nothing serious — nothing serious, at 
all,” he told Mrs. Dole. And so it proved. 
But it was serious enough to keep Debby from 
church the next Sunday, thus causing her to 
miss one of the greatest sensations of the sea- 
son. This was the way it happened : 

Debby lay on the kitchen couch nearly all 
day Saturday, dozing and watching the prepa- 
rations made, as usual, for Sunday. A great 
pot of beans was baked in the vast oven. So 
were a dozen or more loaves of bread and two 
cakes and a score of pies. These Aunt Spiddy 
attended to, and when they were of just the 
right brown, it was she who took them all 
out with the big, flat bread-shovel, A ham 
was boiled, and doughnuts were fried. All 
the time the spinning-wheel was going and 
much of the time the little flax-wheel buzzed 
also. 

Then Saturday night fell — and no more 
work could be done in the Dole family until 
the darkness came on Sunday afternoon. 
Aunt Spiddy put up her knitting, the wheels 


DIPPING CANDLES 


57 


were set straight in the corners, the great 
wood-box stood high piled with logs, the 
kitchen floor had been freshly sanded. Then 
they had their simple supper and after that the 
’Squire read aloud from Scott’s Commentaries 
on the Scriptures. 

Aunt Spiddy and Debby were the only ones 
who did not go to church the next day. Aunt 
Spiddy knew what was going to happen — 
and so did all the others of the older members 
of the family, including Betsey. 

In the next chapter you shall hear of the 
very astonishing thing that happened that 
morning at church. 


CHAPTER V. 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 

The church was in the village, a mile oi 
more away. The ’Squire drove Trotty, and 
Mrs. Dole and the girls somehow crowded 
into the double sleigh — for the snow was 
deep enough in Birchmont for sleighing by 
this time, and the ground was never uncovered 
again until late in April. The boys walked — 
and a cold, tiresome walk they had of it — but 
they knew it would do no good to complain. 

For breakfast on Sunday mornings there 
was never anything but cold pork and beans 
and rye-and-“ injun ” bread — much like the 
modern Boston brown bread. At noon the 
family ate a cold lunch, which they had carried 
with them. As the church was perfectly 
arctic, and only the older women carried foot- 
stoves (which had pans of btiming coals in 
58 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 59 


them, usually re- 
newed from some 
neighbour’s house 
during the “ noon- 
ing ”), it is easily 
understood that 
the men and the 
young people had 
to have a good 
circulation in or- 
der to be fairly 
comfortable. 

The ’Squire 
looked very grand 
as he walked up 
the aisle to his 
prominent pew. 
In his college 
days he had been 
known as a fop, 
and he still car- 
ried himself with 
as much dignity 
and wore as ele- 
gant clothing as 
anybody in Birch- 



6o 


THE DOLE TWINS 


mont. Ben and the other boys still wore home- 
spun, but Ben was going to college in a year 
or two and then he was to have some “ Bos- 
ton clothes,” as well as his father. 

Vanity was said to keep the women warm 
in many cases in those times, as it undoubtedly 
does nowadays. It must also have kept the 
men warm, for they wore no “ underflannels ” 
beneath their long silk hose, while their 
“small-clothes ” (short, tight trousers) reached 
only to the knee, where they were secured with 
great silver buckles, often handsomely chased, 
or set with gems. Above his small-clothes, the 
’Squire wore a long, brocaded “ weskit,” and 
over that a green swallow - tailed coat with 
brass buttons. His hair was braided in a 
queue which hung down between his shoul- 
ders, and was tied with a bit of ribbon. Oh, 
how Priscy Dole used to hate to braid that 
queue! — for it had to be done “just so,” or 
else her particular father would make her do 
it over again. Later, Betsey had to perform 
this daily task, but the ’Squire grew bald fast 
and queues began to go out of fashion by the 
time that Betsey was married, so that Debby 
never had to braid her father’s hair. 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 6r 


There is nothing which we may rejoice over 
more heartily than that the distinctions which 
prevailed in the dress of men a hundred years 
ago have so largely disappeared. Then there 
was a marked and unmistakable difference be- 
tween the garments of gentlemen, so-called, 
and the commonalty. Fops wore gayer colours 
and finer materials than the grandest women 
of to-day. Nothing has done more to promote 
democracy of feeling than the banishment of 
these marked distinctions in dress. Many wise 
people think that until a similar change takes 
place among women, who now devote, in very 
many cases, their best mental power and in- 
genuity to foolish display in dress, there will 
not be much democracy among women. There 
is a very pronounced — one might call it a 
cruel — difference between the clothing of poor 
women and that of rich ones — speaking in a 
broad way; while there is mercifully a far less 
difference between that of poor and rich men, 
especially when they meet socially. 

There were eight or ten men in Birchmont 
who wore the clothing of the “ gentry.” 
The rest all wore homespun, and most of 
them felt as though these elegantly attired 


62 


THE DOLE TWINS 


men were greatly superior to the more 
humbly clad — as no doubt in their souls the 
finely dressed ones thought also. 

There was no Sunday school in those days. 
The children sat huddled into the large, scjuare 
pews with sides so high that they could not 
see any of the other people. The minister’s 
pulpit was very high, or else they could not 
have seen him. 

Nearly all the churches in New England in 
those days were of what is now called the 
“ Congregational ” denomination. Then they 
were called “ Orthodox.” The service was 
very much what it is in Congregational 
churches now, only then every exercise 
was longer. Besides, the people had to 
stand during the “ long prayer,” which often 
occupied an hour in length. This accomplished 
at least one good end. Everybody became so 
tired of standing that even the very hard, 
straight-backed seats seemed comfortable when 
it was proper to sit down again. 

The sermon was twice as long as most ser- 
mons are to-day. By the time the afternoon 
session was over, the people were as tired as 
though they had done a hard day’s work. 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 63 

When the children reached home, they had 
to learn some pages of their catechism and a 
psalm, and, perhaps, one of Watts’s hymns 
also. 

Those who did not learn their tasks well 
and promptly were banished to some lonely, 
cold room to finish them, while the ’Squire 
read aloud to the rest of the family until sup- 
per-time from some volume of sennons. As 
the curtains were drawn after prayers in the 
morning, and were not pulled aside until after 
sunset, everything in the house was dim and 
dreary to the eye. Sunday was generally a 
very depressing day. 

After sunset the children were allowed to 
play and make all the noise they wanted to. 
It used to be told of Dory in later years, 
that on one summer Sunday, when the bright 
light was streaming in through the cracks 
between the curtains, he had the effrontery to 
say to his father, “ I guess the sun has set 
now, father. Mayn’t I go out and play?” 

Everybody tittered — but it was no laugh- 
ing matter to Dory. The stern old ’Squire 
considered that he was joking on sacred sub- 
jects, and, after bidding him regard the rays 


64 


THE DOLE TWINS 


of sunshine which were stealing brightly 
through every cranny, he sent the poor boy 
in disgrace to bed. 

The children in those days did not complain 
much of the Sundays, which were taken for 
granted, with all their tedious formalities. 
They believed that such Sundays helped 
greatly in the making of good men and women 
like their fathers and mothers, and, of course, 
they air wanted, more or less avowedly, to be 
good men and women. The way in which the 
Sabbath day is spent no doubt has a vast deal 
to do with character, and everybody should 
see to it that he puts his own to the very 
highest and noblest use. 

On this special Sabbath day something took 
place which was not uncommon — but noth- 
ing of the sort had ever caused such commo- 
tion in the Dole family pew. 

The minister offered the short prayer. 
Then the choir sang, accompanied by the 
cracked bass-viol of “ old Gran’ther Biggins.’* 
Then the service proceeded until, just before 
the sermon. Dr. Dilway, the minister, in a 
voice which seemed to Dory Dole to echo 
from the big sounding-board like drums and 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 65 

trumpets, read from a piece of paper in his 
hand the words : 

“ Captain Lemuel Taylor and Miss Priscilla 
Dole intend marriage on Thanksgiving Day. 

[Signed] “ Comfort Manners, Clerk” 

Betsey squeezed Dory’s hand and Thankful 
squeezed Betsey’s, and all the Dole children 
looked at each other, and made every sort of 
surprised faces at each other. 

Thanksgiving Day! It was always grand 
to have that come, anyway. How much finer 
it would be to have a wedding, too ! Nearly 
all th 3 children had been to one or more wed- 
dings at the neighbours’ houses. They knew 
that a wedding meant endless cake and pies 
and all sorts of good things to eat. And Bet- 
sey and Dory knew that it meant quiltings 
and apple-bees, and many other merry parties. 

In the thought of all the fun to come, the 
children (who paid little attention to the long 
sermon that followed the “ crying,” as it was 
called, of the happy couple) forgot to grieve 
over the dropping out from their family circle 
of their good elder sister. She was an efficient 


66 


THE DOLE TWINS 


and industrious girl, and would be a sad loss 
to Mrs. Dole. But Priscy had been away at 
boarding-school in the neighbouring county 
town during much of the past year, so that 
Mrs. Dole had become a little used to her 
absence. 

When church was out in the afternoon. 
Dory ran all the way home in order to tell 
Debby the news. 

“ Oh, dear,” wailed Debby. “ I would give 
anything to have been there. How did Priscy 
look ? ” 

“ She turned as red as a beet and put her 
head down on mother’s shoulder,” reported 
Dory. 

“ Oh, I wish I could have seen her ! ” 

“ She looked just the same as usual, only she 
was red,” said Dory, rather scofhngly. 

“Did you know it, Aunt Spiddy?” in- 
quired Debby. 

“ Yes,” laughed Aunt Spiddy. “ I should 
think you would have known it, you are both 
of you so keen. You would if you hadn’t 
been so taken up with your own affairs. You 
both have more going on than any other chil- 
dren I ever saw in my life.” 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 67 

Here Dory and Debby looked at each other 
brightly and meaningly. How little Aunt 
Spiddy realized, they seemed to say, of what 
was now “ going on ” ! 

“ Yes,” proceeded Aunt Spiddy. “ Captain 
Lem never would have bought so much of 
you on muster-day if — ” 

“ Oh, we knew that! ” interrupted Debby, 
rather rudely. “ We knew Captain Lem was 
in love with Priscy.” 

“ Well — you didn’t suppose he was going 
to keep on courting her for ever, did you? 
Such things generally end in a wedding, 
sooner or later. . And Captain Lem has a good 
farm, with a comfortable house on it. But 
your mother will miss Priscy dreadfully — 
dreadfully. You will have to work more than 
you do, Debby, for pretty soon Betsey will be 
going off to school.” 

Debby looked very sober for a moment. 
Then she brightened up. 

“ Pm not going to worry about that now. 
If there is going to be a wedding, I say, let’s 
have all the fun out of it that we can. Is 
that what my new red dress is for?” 

“ Yes — and Betsey’s new green one. All 


68 


THE DOLE TWINS 


the clothes are ready. Your mother is a smart 
woman, Debby. She has done a sight of spin- 
ning and weaving — and there won’t be a bet- 
ter outfit anywhere in the county this year 
than Priscy has got. But there are six quilts 
to be quilted — and ever so much to do be- 
sides.” 

Just then there was a sound of sleigh-bells. 

“There are the folks!” said Aunt Spiddy, 
warningly. “ You better not say much about 
the wedding. Your father, maybe, won’t 
think it is good Sunday talk. Pie’s stricter 
than I am, you know — and I’m afraid I 
ought to be stricter.” 

“ No, Aunt Spiddy, you are just strict 
enough,” cried Debby, lovingly. “ Oh, my! 
See Priscy,” as the door opened, and that 
radiant maiden entered, her cheeks still very 
rosy. “ I heard about you, Priscy ! I heard 
your face was red ! ” 

“ What if it was ? ” cried Priscy, laughing. 
“ I’ll ’tend to you, Dory Dole, if you keep on 
telling tales about me.” 

“ ’Sh, ’sh! ” said the ’Squire, coming in just 
then, as Ben drove Trotty around to the barn. 
“ We won’t talk about gaieties to-day. In 


WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY 69 

my judgment, it isn’t profitable, on the Sab- 
bath, to laugh so much.” 

His voice was not unkind, and the children 
knew that he was desirous only for their good. 
Words cannot tell how they revered their 
father. He never had to speak twice in order 
to secure their obedience. Perhaps modern 
fathers, though they criticize rather harshly 
the old Puritans of the type of ’Squire Dole, 
might yet learn something to their advantage, 
if they would study more carefully the man- 
ners and customs of those benighted times and 
men. 

On Monday morning, all restrictions were 
removed. As Debby had discovered that 
Priscy and Captain Lem would be cried an- 
other Sunday, she proceeded to get well very 
fast. She was determined that nothing should 
keep her from church the following Sunday. 

This w^as altogether a good thing for the 
family. Debby was very smart and she could 
spin and weave and cook and do all small 
household tasks almost as well as and much 
faster than Betsey could. 

On Thursday there was to be an all-day 
quilting. To this the matrons of the neigh- 


70 


THE DOLE TWINS 


bourhood would come in the morning and stay 
until dark. The girls would come in the early 
afternoon and stay through the evening. The 
young men would come in the evening. A 

good many of the 
older men would 
be present at the 
noon meal. As 
their wives would 
be at the quilting, 
there would be 
nobody, in some 
of the homes, to 
get the dinner. 
So the children 
would go to 
“ grandma’s ” and 
the father would 
be invited to din- 
ner with his wife. 

And, oh, what appetites they would all 
have! Mrs. Dole and Aunt Spiddy were like 
two generals as they marshalled their little 
army of workers in the big Dole kitchen. 
The recovered Debby stoned raisins and 



WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING DAY /I 


pared apples and beat eggs and ran up-stairs 
and down. By the time that the great quilting 
day had come she had almost forgotten that she 
had ever had to take picra. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE QUILTING 

There were two pantries in the Dole house. 
One was in the big back kitchen. As there 
was seldom a fire made in this room it was, 
as one might say, “ frozen solid ” from Octo- 
ber to May. Therefore in the back pantry 
nothing could be kept which freezing could 
hurt. 

Just now, as a beef and two pigs had been 
slaughtered, the back pantry was full of meat. 
There was a barrel of pork in brine in the 
cellar, and also a barrel of corned beef ; while 
from poles laid across great hooks in the 
beams which ceiled the kitchen hung several 
great pieces of beef, which had been especially 
prepared for drying, and four great hams and 
strips of bacon. 

Mrs. Dole came of a family famous for its 
72 


THE QUILTING 


73 


efficiency in all household matters. Not only 
must everything be done that should be done, 
but it must be done in just the right way and 
at just the right time. Debby thought it was 
hard that she should have to cut the sausage 
meat so carefully from the bone and take 
every seed so scrupulously from the raisins 
which went into the mince-meat. But all this 
trouble paid in the end, for not only did the 
family find everything good, but an ex- 
ample was set for others to follow, and a 
great fame of Mrs. Dole’s fine housekeeping 
spread abroad among the neighbours and even 
into the far-of¥ towns. 

“ I wonder,” they all said, “ if Priscy is 
going to make such a wonderful housekeeper 
as her mother is.” 

Captain Lem Taylor was sure that she 
would be a great deal better one in every way. 

Old Trotty was harnessed early and Ben 
went around to collect such of the women as 
could not conveniently be driven by their own 
men. The day before, three sets of quilting 
bars had been borrowed from near neighbours, 
for no family could very well keep more than 
one set of its own. 


74 


THE DOLE TWINS 


By five o’clock in the Dole family the break- 
fast had been eaten. Then the rooms had been 
cleared of everything which could be spared, 
and what was left was “ tidied up,” to the 
last refinement of which Mrs. Dole and her 
daughters were capable. 

There were four large, square rooms in the 
main portion of the Dole house on the lower 
floor, and four great, airy chambers above 
them. The kitchen was in a wide extension 
at the back of the main structure. 

In the east front room was now spread out 
a gorgeous “ rising sun ” quilt, which Priscy 
herself had been piecing for years. It con- 
tained five thousand pieces ! The quilt and 
its lining were made of chintzes, saved from 
laid-by gowns of grandmothers, aunts, and 
cousins, as well as from those of the imme- 
diate family. 

In the parlour, on the opposite side of the 
narrow entrance hall, was spread out on bars, 
also ready for quilting, a wonderful “ Star of 
Bethlehem ” quilt, which was the work of 
Betsey and Debby. Debby had not clearly 
understood that she had been making a quilt 
for Priscy’s wedding when she had grumbled 


THE QUILTING 


75 


and sometimes wept over doing her “ stent ” 
of patchwork. Now she was glad enough that 
she had done it. Another one, which was said 
to be “ for Betsey,” was half-done already, and 
pieces were collecting for a third one for 
Debby herself. Mrs. Dole kept the patchwork 
constantly going in her household, as well as 
everything else. 

Perhaps the most wonderful of all was the 
“ Rose of Sharon ” cpiilt, which was Aunt 
Spiddy’s work. It was composed of red roses 
on a white ground. Each rose had a leaf and 
a stem made of several green pieces most 
neatly joined together. This was appropriately 
laid out for quilting, in Aunt Spiddy’s room, 
which was just behind the parlour. In Mrs. 
Dole’s room, just behind the ’Squire’s office, 
was a plain comfortable, made of alternate 
stripes of pale green and dark blue flannel, very 
fine and soft, which Mrs. Dole herself had 
spun. The other quilts were made warm with 
cotton batting, but this one was wadded with 
the finest and softest of lambs’ wool. It was 
for the very coldest weather and answered to 
the modern “ down quilt.” 

To-day the ’Squire and Ben had made a 


76 


THE DOLE TWINS 


roaring fire in the fireplace of every one of the 
rooms. For days beforehand they had spent 
their odd moments in filling the wood-boxes. 
Dory had lugged, as he said, “ cords of wood,” 
and little Hiram and Joshua had helped with 
all their strength. The brass andirons had 
been polished by Betsey. 

Shortly after nine the women began to 
come, each with her needle, thread, thimble, 
and scissors. By that time the fires were all 
well started, each with its mighty backlog, 
which would last all day long — though none 
was so big as that in the kitchen. Every 
hearth was “ wiped up ” cleanly. There was 
not a speck of dust on any mantel, or sill, or 
chair. Great “ spare ribs ” were roasting in 
front of the kitchen fire, and their savoury 
smell gave zest to the quilting. An addition to 
the ordinary dining-table had been made from 
pieces which were always kept in the barn. A 
few nails set them up, and though they were 
rough, they were strong. Then white linen 
cloths, made with Mrs. Dole’s own hands from 
flax which she had raised and hatchelled her- 
self, were laid over these long tables. 

Mrs. Bannock was the wife of the village 



“DORV HAD LUGGED, AS HE SAID, ‘CORDS OF WOOD.’ ” 






THE QUILTING 


79 


storekeeper, who was supposed to be the 
richest man in the place. When she came into 
the kitchen, she noticed that Hiram and Joshua 
were playing Twelve Men Morrice at one side 
of the fireplace. 

“ What a pretty board you have there, 
Hiram ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ Dory made it,” said Hiram, proudly. 

“ I wonder if he would make me one,” said 
the great lady. “ I will pay him a pretty 
penny if he will make me such an one as that.” 

When Dory came in from sawing wood in 
the shed, where he had a “ stent ” of two hours 
per day of hard sawing, he was delighted. 
Mrs. Bannock said that she would take two, 
and would give Dory “ a shilling ” apiece for 
them. 

But that was not the only help which came 
that day to the great scheme of the twins. The 
other developed through Debby’s great ex- 
pertness with her needle. 

Each quilt was quilted in a different pattern. 
One was in squares. Another was in diamonds. 
The Rose of Sharon was quilted all around 
each little rose-tree first of all. Then the red 
and the green were quilted in parallel lines. 


8o 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Then the white part was quilted in long seams 
which crossed and recrossed without once 
touching the red or the green. Aunt Spiddy 
herself directed this enterprise, and only the 
most delicate and expert quilters were invited 
to take part in it. This had to be done in such 
a way as to hurt nobody’s feelings, and, 
owing to Mrs. Dole’s tact, it was so done. 

The lambs’ wool quilt was done in shell 
patterns. Mrs. Dole had drilled Debby on this 
pattern until she could do it very neatly. 
Debby had to draw the cider and rub the apples 
and cut the bread, and do many other little 
errands; but whenever she could get a chance 
she stitched away at the lambs’ wool quilt in 
her mother’s room. 

Mrs. Bannock stood a few moments watch- 
ing her. Debby did not know that any one was 
there, except Grandmother Bacon, also a 
famous quilter, and Mrs. Dilway, the minister’s 
wife, who were working on different sides of 
the quilt. 

Suddenly a voice said in her ear : “ A cer- 

tain little girl is doing those shells wonder- 
fully well.” 

“ Thank you, Mrs. Bannock,” laughed 


THE QUILTING 


8l 


Debby, jumping a little in her surprise. 
“ Maybe I might have clone better, if I had 
known you were looking over ! ” 

“ You couldn’t ! ” declared Mrs. Bannock. 
“ I never saw a child of your age cpiilt so well. 
Now,” lowering her voice still more, “ I hear 
from Doctor Barron that you want to earn 
some money. I have a ciuilt something like 
this that I want to have done in shells. If you 
will do it for me, I will pay you a dollar.” 

By this time, Mrs. Bannock had sat down 
beside Debby, whose face had fallen when she 
heard that Doctor Barron had been talking 
about the money. 

“ A dollar ! ” she said, breathlessly. “ Isn’t 
that too much, Mrs. Bannock? But I told 
Doctor Barron not to tell ! ” 

“ Oh, he did not tell me what you were do- 
ing it for. He just said that if I had any work 
for boys and girls to do I had better give it to 
you and Dory — for you had an object and a 
good one. Don’t be out of patience with him, 
for he is a good friend.” 

“ I should think he was ! ” said Debby, 
gratefully. “ And I would love to do the 
quilt, if mother can spare me. She told me 


82 


THE DOLE TWINS 


that I could rest after Thanksgiving, but not 
much before — and school begins the week 
after that.” 

“ Well, I wouldn’t wonder if you could 
give me an hour every morning, then. I shall 
do some of it myself — though I don’t do it 
as well as you do, Debby.” 

The Bannocks had no children of their own, 
but they were always doing pleasant things 
for the children of their friends. In her secret 
soul, Debby suspected that kind-hearted Mrs. 
Bannock would “ quilt ” most of the shells 
herself. As she embroidered and did all sorts 
of sewing skilfully, Debby greatly deprecated 
the compliment paid her, and said so very 
prettily. Then Mrs. Bannock, who had always 
made pets of the twins, went off smiling, 
leaving behind her a little girl who was pal- 
pitating with pride and joy, and who could 
hardly wait to go and tell Dory of her good 
fortune. When she found him at last and 
heard about the Morrice boards, they both 
danced up and down in their glee. 

By this time it was getting to be noon. 
The spare ribs were done, and presently the 
whole company, numbering about thirty souls, 


THE QUILTING 


^^3 

drew np around the generously spread board, 
while Debby and the two little girls waited 
upon them. 

As for the quilts, they were folding together 
fast. By the time that the young men came 
in the evening, the “ rising sun ” and all the 
rest were “ off the bars,” and ready for the 
binding and finishing, which Aunt Spiddy 
could easily do as she sat on her warm bench 
beside the kitchen fire. 

You can imagine that the' little girls did 
not much like to go to bed, but, though they 
dropped a few unavailing tears. Thankful and 
Electa were banished shortly after the fine 
supper, of which thirty more hungry people 
partook. Hiram and Joshua went at the same 
time to their trundle-bed, which had been set 
up in the “ corn-chamber,” above the wood- 
shed, in order to make room for the wonderful 
quilting. 

As for De1)by, she was allowed to sit up 
through the entire evening. The company 
played “ Twirl the Platter ” and “ Wink ’em 
Slyly,” and then there was an uproarious 
game of “ Packsaddle ” to close with, just as 
at the birthday party. 


84 


THE DOLE TWINS 


Dory had taken the little boys up to bed 
in the cold “ back chamber,” lighting the way 
thither with a candle, which flickered dismally 
in the big, bare room. While they were hur- 
rying to get into bed, Dory stood by the one 
window at the end of the long, low apartment 
gazing idly out into the moonlit night, when 
suddenly he saw a singular looking figure 
stealing along under the shadow of the barn. 

There were no insane asylums in those 
days. When any member of a family lost his 
mind, he had to be taken care of in the house- 
hold, in the best way that could be devised. 
Sometimes these poor, crazy people were 
abused, but generally they were treated hu- 
manely. 

Darius Fuller, a worthy farmer living a 
mile or more down the river beyond ’Squire 
Dole’s, had an older brother who had been 
long demented. This old man, who was uni- 
versally called “ Uncle Dosius,” had some- 
times been so violent that Mr. Fuller had had 
to build a strong oaken cage in which to con- 
fine him. During the last year or two, how- 
ever, Uncle Dosius had grown calmer and 
more reasonable, and hacl , begged so hard to 


THE QUILTING 


85 


be taken out of his cage that the family had 
decided to set him free. For a number of 
months he had been allowed to roam around 
the village at his own sweet will, and had done 
no harm. Still, the children were all afraid of 
him, and, when Dory saw the queer-looking 
shape tiptoeing along in the snow in the shad- 
ows, he knew in a moment that it was Uncle 
Dosius, and felt worried. 

He did not want to scare the little boys, so 
he said nothing to them. At just that moment 
they announced that they were “ all right,” so 
Dory tucked them up in their little bed, and, 
shutting the door tightly, blew out his candle 
and ran down the stairs. 


CHAPTER VII. 

A SLIGHT PANIC 

As Dory ran, he caught from a hook a 
short old fur coat, which the ’Squire kept 
there for use in cold weather when there was 
more work than usual to do at the barn. It 
was pretty large for the boy, for he was 
smaller than most of his age. Then he tiptoed 
out on a wooden platform which his mother 
had had built at the back door for the drying 
of milk-pans and such like necessary purposes. 
From this point he could plainly see the figure 
which had startled him when he looked from 
the corn-chamber window. Somewhat to his 
dismay, the man now seemed to observe him 
also, and began to run toward him. 

Dory started to flee. But the noise of the 
merry party within floated out reassuringly 
upon the night, and he thought, “ There are 
86 


A SLIGHT PANIC 87 

plenty of men within call. I'm not going to 
be afraid.” 

He was further heartened by the sound of 
Uncle Dosius’s voice. He was repeating a 
formula very common with him : “ I want 
some sympathy. Why don’t you give me 
some sympathy? ” 

Saying this over and over, he came running 
up to the platform as Dory turned to face him. 

Uncle Dosius was an uncommonly large, 
gaunt man, and he loomed up larger than ever 
in the moonlight. Dory wished that he had 
obeyed his first impulse and had run into the 
kitchen; but the crazy man had by this time 
gripped his sleeve hard, and was saying over 
and over, “ Yes, I’ve got to have more sym- 
pathy — more sympathy.” 

“ Let go,” said Dory. “ You hurt my arm, 
L^ncle Dosius. You can have all the sympathy 
I’ve got, and the rest of us, too, if you’ll only 
let go.” 

But the long, sinewy fingers still grasped a 
handful of the fur coat, and, incidentally, a 
thumbful of Dory’s tender arm, through it 
all. 

“ I want a doughnut,” said the crazy man, 


88 


THE DOLE TWINS 


changing his tone. “ Let’s go in and have 
some doughnuts.” 

Dory knew it would just about spoil 
Priscy’s pleasant party to have such a wild, un- 



kempt figure entering there, and all of this was 
happening so quickly that he had to act upon 
impulse. It is never a safe way — and this 
time it proved to be especially disastrous. 


A SLIGHT PANIC 


89 


“ Oh, you mustn’t do that ! ” he cried. 
“ You want to go home, Uncle Dosius. The 
folks don’t know where you are. They’ll be 
worried about you. You get along home — 
and let go of my arm ! ” 

The note of irritation in the boy’s voice, 
and a tremor of fright which he could not 
help, seemed to excite beyond control the al- 
ready maddened lunatic. With a motion so 
quick and so skilful that Dory could not parry 
it,’ the tall and powerful maniac caught up the 
little fellow in his arms like a baby, and, fold- 
ing him, fur coat and all, across his breast, 
began to run out to the road and then down 
the river toward his home. 

Dory gave two or three wild shrieks of 
terror, but Uncle Dosius pressed the boy’s 
mouth so closely to his own old coat that it 
was not only closed but was hurt. Then, with 
his dangling legs. Dory struggled and kicked; 
but he might as well have struggled against 
the stout oaken cage in which the crazy man 
had been so long shut up. Uncle Dosius was 
naturally strong, and now, in his frenzied 
condition, he was stronger than ever. 

Those shrieks of Dory’s had not been heard 


90 


THE DOLE TWINS 


at all by most of the gay company who were 
celebrating the quilting. Only Aunt Spiddy, 
as she sat on her warm bench by the kitchen 
fire, thought she heard a strange sound. But 
she concluded that it was only one of the 
echoes of the screams of the girls who were 
being kissed in “ Wink ’em Slyly,” and so she 
said nothing. 

It was fully an hour after Dory had left the 
room before anybody missed him. Then 
Debby, who had been running around and 
around the big chimney until she was “ al- 
most beat out,” as the old ladies said, came 
into the kitchen and asked Aunt Spiddy, 
“Where’s Dory?” 

“ Isn’t he in the other room ? ” 

“ No; I thought he must be out here.” 

Knots of young people were gathered in 
every part of the big kitchen, some of them 
drinking cider or eating apples to refresh 
themselves after their hard play, and others 
simply talking and laughing. They were all 
making a great noise, and Aunt Spiddy and 
Debby could hardly hear each other’s words. 

“ Look around,” suggested Aunt Spiddy. 


A SLIGHT PANIC 


91 


“ He must be playing Morrice somewhere in 
some corner.” 

But Debby wandered through all the rooms, 
and went up-stairs into the “ spare chamber ” 
where the feather-bed was piled high, and all 
the chairs, too, with the wraps of the fair 
maidens who had come to the quilting; and 
yet no Doiy was to be seen. 

With a vagiie fear at her heart, the little 
girl ran down to where her father was con- 
versing on politics in his office with two or 
three of the men. 

“ Father,” she cried, “ Dory isn’t anywhere 
around.” 

“ Oh, he must be,” responded the ’Squire, 
somewhat annoyed at having to stop in the 
middle of a sentence, in which he was criticiz- 
ing very harshly some measures of the famous 
Thomas Jefferson. 

“ He must be,” repeated the ’Squire. 
“ Where could he be? He has probably gone 
to bed. The boy was tired.” 

Debby flew up to Dory’s chamber, into 
which had been piled bedsteads and furniture 
from the lower rooms. As she had thought, 
the bed which Ben and Dory usually occupied 


92 


THE DOLE TWINS 


together was loaded with all sorts of things. 
Dory could not possibly have crawled into it. 

She peeped into the fourth of the up-stairs 
chambers, which was used as a storeroom. 
Just now it was filled to its utmost capacity 
with boxes containing Priscy’s wedding linen 
and finery, and more of the extra furniture 
which had been removed for the quilters. It 
was dark, cold, crowded. 

Debby was now thoroughly frightened, in 
spite of the easy way in which her father had 
received her tidings. 

“ He isn’t anywhere,” she reported to him, a 
moment later. “ He’s hurt or something, 
father. Dory’s hurt.” 

“ ’Sh, ’sh ! ” he commanded her. “ Don’t 
cry, child — and don’t get people wrought up 
over nothing at all. He has just fallen asleep 
in some corner. These twins,” he laughed 
back to the other men, as he rose, “ can’t be 
separated for half an hour without hankering 
after each other! ” 

Quietly he threaded his way through the 
noisy young people to the table near which 
his wife was sitting, gossiping innocently with 
two or three of the older women, as they put 


A SLIGHT PANIC 


93 


a few last stitches on one of the quilts which 
had been taken out from the bars. 

“ Where’s Dory ? ” she repeated, when the 
question was asked her. “ Why — where 
should he be? He went to put the little boys 
to bed in the corn-chamber.” 

The ’Squire slipped out at the back door, 
putting on an old hat which hung close by in 
order to protect his bald head. Debby was at 
his heels, so warm with her anxiety that she 
could not possibly feel the cold of the dark 
back stairs. The ’Squire had caught up one 
of the several lighted candles which stood on 
the kitchen table. It flickered but did not go 
out, as he slowly climbed the stairs, opened the 
door which Dory had shut so hard, and 
glanced in upon the sleeping boys. After the 
day’s “ fitful fever,” they were thoroughly 
tired out, and were breathing hard and regu- 
larly. ’Squire Dole peered into the cobwebbed 
corners, but nothing was there except great 
heaps of golden corn ears. 

“ Nothing there,” mused the ’Squire. 
“ Where did you say you had looked, Debby? ” 

The little girl repeated the tale of her 
search. 


94 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ There’s the barn,” the ’Squire reminded 
himself, “ but what he should want out there 
when there’s a quilting-bee going on I can’t 
imagine. It’s too cold for you, child ; go back 
into the house.” 

By this time the news that Dory was miss- 
ing had spread, and three or four of the men 
had come out to see if they could help. Doctor 
Barron had in his big sleigh in the barn a sort 
of lantern in which a candle could be set. This 
was lighted and they looked everywhere, but 
no Dory. 

Some of the men tried, with the help of 
candles anil the lantern, to make out if there 
were any footprints in the snow; but so many 
men had been around all day that the snow 
was trodden in all directions. Nobody noticed 
the trail of Uncle Dosius around the barn, for 
others had been around there that very day, 
and so there were many tracks. 

Again the house was searched. You and I 
know that no trace of the boy could be found 
there. 

By this time, the whole company of fifty or 
more people were nearly distracted. 

“ Where can my boy be ! ” sobbed dear Aunt 


A SLIGHT PANIC 


95 


Spiddy. “ It seems as if the earth had opened 
and swallowed him up ! ” 

Little by little, there came to her the recol- 
lection of the shrieks that she had heard. It 
seemed almost too frightful to tell ; but by the 
time the searchers had returned from the barn 
for the third time, she related the vague im- 
pressions of strange sounds, which she had 
had an hour or more before. 

Most of the young people had come in two 
large sleighs, made of hay-carts mounted on 
runners. They were filled with straw, and had 
rude railings around them. It was decided 
that all the women, young and old, should go 
home, excepting two or three of the most in- 
timate friends of Mrs. Dole and Priscy, who 
would stay through the night to help in case of 
need. After getting the women safely settled, 
the men would return. 

“ Not one of us will sleep to-night, sir,” said 
Captain Lem Taylor, with tears in his eyes, 
“ until this mystery is solved.” 

“If the boy should be hiding for fun,” re- 
turned the ’Squire, slowly, “ I can’t think of 
any punishment which would be quite bad 
enough for him, to pay him for giving us all 


96 


THE DOLE TWINS 


such a fright. But there was never anything 
tricky or mischievous about Doremus. Some- 
thing must have happened to him, but what 
can it be? ” 

The girls and women were taken to their 
homes, their gaiety all gone. Many of them 
were weeping. These the boys laughed at. 

“ He’s all right, Dory Dole is,” they would 
affirm, though there was a strain of anxiety 
beneath all their assurance. ” He is under the 
hay or something, somewhere. Very likely the 
whole thing is a joke. He thought, maybe, 
that he was being very funny. He probably 
never thought of our taking it so hard.” 

But by the way they all hurried back to the 
Doles’ as fast as they could, asking each other, 
with pale faces, “ Any news ? Any news ? ” 
it was plain to see that they thought it no 
joke. 

The young men put up the big teams, 
and most of them, when they reappeared, were 
on horseback. Mr. Bannock, who had been 
one of the few older men present, had come 
in a cutter — not so light and comfortable as 
those of the present day, but quite the best in 
town. As Mrs. Bannock was one of those who 


A SLIGHT PANIC 


97 


had decided to stay overnight with the Doles. 
Mr. Bannock had offered to take home Mrs. 
Darius Fuller, and Mrs. Kendrick, who lived 
just below the Fullers’. 

When Mr. Bannock returned to the Doles’, 
he said: “We met Uncle Dosius just outside 
the gate. He was headed for the village. 
Darius has been housed some days with a cold, 
pretty sick, and Dosius has been wandering a 
good deal.” 

“Was he all alone?” asked the ’Squire, 
eagerly. 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Bannock. “ He was all 
alone.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 
dory’s fate 

“Uncle Dosius?” repeated the ’Squire, 
whose lawyer skill was all alert in this terrible 
dilemma. “ Let’s see. He hasn’t been in his 
cage for a good while now, has he? ” 

By this time they were all gathered in the 
great kitchen, getting warm after their cold 
rides. 

“ Not since last winter,” said one of the 
young men, who lived in Mr. Darius Fuller’s 
family. He was a good, industrious boy of 
nineteen or twenty, named Ezekiel Carroll. 
(He had scarcely left the side of Betsey Dole 
for one moment that evening.) 

“ How is he now — pretty quiet ? ” contin- 
ued the ’Squire. 

“ No. Since the cold weather came on he 
has been cross and mischievous,” said Ezekiel. 

98 


dory’s fate 


99 


“ I have heard cold weather affects crazy folks 
that way. I suppose it is because they are so 
uncomfortable with the cold — or something 
like that. Anyhow, when he steals things, as 
he has done several times lately, and then hides 
them, Mr. Fuller says he doesn’t see anything 
for it but to lock him up in his cage again. 
Uncle Dosius can’t bear that idea — and it 
scares him so that he behaves pretty well for a 
few days — and then he seems to forget — 
and goes at his tricks again. I’m for shutting 
him up — though it does seem kind o’ hard.” 

“ Which way was he headed, did you say? ” 
the ’Squire inquired of Mr. Bannock. 

“ He was just coming out of the house, 
apparently — and bound for the village.” 

“ Well,” decided the ’Squire, after a mo- 
ment’s deliberation, while they all hung pain- 
fully upon his words, “ I can’t think of any- 
thing to do but to go down to the Fullers’.” 

“ I helped Mrs. Fuller to get him back into 
the house and to bed,” explained Mr. Bannock, 
“ The old man was chilled through. I should 
think he had been out for hours. Old Granny 
Fuller, who was sitting on the dye-pot knitting 
away by the firelight, said she hadn’t seen any- 

LOFC, 


100 


THE DOLE TWINS 


thing- of him since the children went to bed 
two or three hours before. She supposed he 
had gone to bed, too.” 

“ Did yon have any trouble getting Uncle 
Dosius to bed ? ” 

“ Yes, a good deal. He is a powerful old 
fellow. He must be hard on to seventy. He’s 
older than Darius by some years, but he is as 
strong as a giant. I should hate to have to 
put him into that cage if he didn’t want to 
go.” 

“ It took six of us to get him in before,” 
said Ezekiel. He was Mrs. Fuller’s nephew, 
and had lived in the Fuller family for years. 

“ Now, friends,” said the ’Scpiire, as he be- 
gan to pull on his greatcoat, several young 
fellows springing forward to help him, “ it 
may look foolish to think of going down to the 
Fullers’ to look for my boy — getting on to 
the stroke of twelve as it is — and Mr. Fuller 
done up with inflammation of the lungs, or 
pretty near it, but we can’t go into the woods 
to-night with all this snow on the ground, and 
the moon just setting.” 

“We’ll all go down to Mr. Fuller’s with 
you,” they cried, though not one of those pres- 


dory’s fate lOI 

ent could really think of any way in which 
they could learn from Uncle Dosius or any of 
the Fullers what had become of Dory. 

Fortunately Mrs. Fuller, though she had lain 
down on the kitchen settle, was awake and 
had not undressed herself. Scarcely one of 
those who had been at the quilting that evening 
slept during the entire night. 

She heard the tramp of horses and the 
ring of voices long before the men had 
reached the house, and was at the door with a 
lighted candle when the ’Squire, in Mr. Ban- 
nock’s sleigh, with that gentleman driving, 
sprang out there. 

“ Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Fuller,” said 
the ’Squire. “ Fm afraid you’ll think we’ve 
come on a fool’s errand, but they tell me Uncle 
Dosius seems to have been out most of the 
evening, and it has occurred to me that he 
might have seen my lost boy somewhere. Do 
you think there is any use in trying to get a 
sensible account out of him — supposing he 
had seen Doremus?” 

“ Fm afraid not,” answered Mrs. Fuller, 
doubtfully. “ But we might try. Ezekiel, you 
take this candle and go up to Uncle Dosius’s 


102 


THE DOLE TWINS 


chamber with ’Squire Dole. Sometimes we lock 
him in, but I didn’t to-night. I was so excited, 
I never thought of it. Perhaps some of the rest 
of you had better go along. He’s been kind o’ 
wild lately.” 

Up the stairs trooped the men, Ezekiel 
ahead, the ’Squire just behind. They were all 
very quiet. They knew that it would not do 
to startle Uncle Dosius. 

Gently, Ezekiel unlatched the door and 
peered in. 

“ What in the name of the Seven Sleepers ” 
— he began in dismay. 

“What — what is it?” echoed the ’Squire, 
peering over Ezekiel’s shoulder. 

“ He ain’t here! ” said the boy. 

“Ain’t here!” they all exclaimed — the 
word passing among the score of men. 

Sure enough, there was the bed, its woollen 
sheets open, the print of the old man’s form 
on them and a hollow in the pillow where his 
head had lain — but no Uncle Dosius. 

“ Why, it isn’t an hour since I put him into 
that bed with my own hands,” affirmed Mr. 
Bannock, open-mouthed and wondering. 

“ Now there are two to hunt for,” laughed 


dory’s fate 


103 


one of the young men, with a strain of nervous 
terror underneath his light words. 

“ He must have gone out at the front door,” 
said Mrs. Fuller, when the men came back with 
blanched faces to the kitchen, where she had 
been mending the fire and lighting more candles 
as they went up-stairs. ” He is a noisy man 
generally — but he can get around as still as a 
cat when he chooses. Now where can he have 
gone? Oh, if my husband was only up and 
around ! ” 

Doctor Barron was another of the men in 
the party and he had been attending Mr. 
Fuller. Now he called out, “ Oh, Mr. Fuller 
will be all right in a day or two. Don’t worry. 
And there are enough of us here in all con- 
science to do all the work that can be done to- 
night. But where do you keep Uncle Dosius’s 
cage? ” 

“ Right in the middle of the barn floor. 
Ezekiel will show you. It’s too big to go any- 
where else. When we had to shut Uncle 
Dosius up in it, we had it in the back kitchen. 
But, oh, dear! I hope we haven’t got to go 
through with that again I Hark I was that 
noise at the barn ? ” 


104 


THE DOLE TWINS 


They all plainly heard a noise. Tlie doctor, 
who, as he talked, had, with Mrs. Fuller’s per- 
mission, been fixing a fresh candle into his lan- 
tern, had just succeeded in lighting it, with a 
coal from the fire. Now he started for the 
barn as if he had been shot, the men all follow- 
ing in an excited, irregular troop. 

Ezekiel rushed forward in order to draw 
the wooden bar which generally secured the 
barn door. It was down already, and a stiff 
jerk at the door failed to open it. 

The noise continued — weak, gasping 
screams. The men were nearly frantic. 

A ladder lay under a shed a few feet away. 
Ezekiel seized this and put it up to a window, 
open in the summer, but now shut and fastened 
from the outside. In a moment he was inside 
the barn, with a dozen others at his heels. 
Jumping down from the haymow on which 
they found themselves, they approached the 
obstinate door, the doctor holding his lantern 
from above. Then the dim rays shone upon 
Uncle Dositis, who, half-dressed and glaring 
wildly about him, was holding together the 
door by main strength. 


dory’s fate 


105 


“You mustn’t do that! You mustn’t do 
that I ” said Ezekiel, soothingly. 

But the ’Squire was investigating the smoth- 
ered, miserable sounds which were issuing 
from the other end of the barn floor. They 
came from Uncle Dosius’s cage, the door of 
which was firmly secured by a stout iron 
staple, ingeniously arranged to be fastened 
from the outside. 

In a moment the door to the cage was un- 
barred. The cage itself had been filled with 
hay. 

“ Who under the sun put all that hay 
there?” cried Ezekiel. “There was nothing 
in that cage when I did the chores late in the 
afternoon.” 

“ He was cold. I put in the hay to warm 
him,” explained Uncle Dosius in a bewildered 
way. 

With a man on either side of him, the 
maniac now stood by while the hay was being 
pulled out of the cage. The gasping screams 
had by this time changed to faint groans, but 
the men were filled with a great joy in spite of 
the groans ; for, mysterious and unaccountable 
as the case still appeared to them, they were 


I06 THE DOLE TWINS 

one and all convinced, even before his form 
came to light tinder the hay, that they had 
found the lost boy. 

“ Doremus, my son, my son ! ” exclaimed 
the ’Squire, in a broken voice, when the shaggy 
fur of the familiar old barn-coat came to light. 
A moment more and the boy was in his 
father’s arms, while the rest looked on with 
glistening eyes. 

“ Where am I? ” asked Dory, trying to get 
up, as he lay across his father’s knees on a 
heap of hay. “ What is it, father? ” 

Little by little he was raising himself and 
rubbing his eyes, which were naturally full of 
dust and hay-seed. Soon he was sitting up 
and staring through the dim light at the group 
around him. 

“ It isn’t our bam — whose barn is it? ” he 
murmured, in a bewildered way. 

“It is Mr. Fuller’s. How under the heavens 
did you get here, my son ? ” 

“ Oh,” gasped Dory, feebly. “ How was it ? 
Oh, yes — I remember now ” — ■ looking at 
Uncle Dosius fixedly — “ you old rascal ! — 
how did you dare — ” 

“ Don’t stop to abuse that poor old man,’’ 


dory’s fate 


107 


interrupted his father. “ Just tell us about 
it.” 

By this time Dory’s mind and strength had 
come back to him enough so that he could tell 
connectedly the story of his capture. But he 
could remember nothing after he had realized 
that he could not escape from the grasp of the 
powerful old man who was carrying him. 
Between his fright and the terrible pressure 
under which he was held, he had doubtless lost 
his senses entirely. 

“ What made you put him in there, Uncle 
Dosius?” demanded the ’Squire, as Ezekiel 
locked up the barn and they all trooped back 
into the house. 

“ I had to, I had to,” was all that the crazy 
man could say. 

It is unnecessary to add that when he was 
put to bed this time, he was carefully locked 
into his room. The next day his cage was 
placed in its old station in the back kitchen, 
and he was put into it. Fortunately, he died 
during the winter, but he had come near to 
killing Dory Dole by his wild prank. The 
boy, whose life was probably saved only by 


io8 


THE DOLE TWINS 


the fact that he had happened to throw on the 
old fur “ barn-coat,” lay sick with cold and 
fever for days afterward. 

The news of his strange adventure, and that 
he was at last safe, was borne that night in all 
directions by the men who had assisted in his 
recovery; and the story was told with bated 
breath for generations afterward. Even to 
this day, old men and women can be found in 
the Deerfield valley whose grandfathers joined 
in that weird search for the boy who had 
been “ carried off by the crazy man,” and 
the fame of “ Uncle Dosius ” has outlived that 
of most of his greater contemporaries. 

Dory did not go to school that winter. His 
health was delicate for months. Mrs. Bannock 
found that she wanted more Morrice boards, 
and some for Fox and Geese also. Dory made 
a dozen or more for her and for others, and 
the shillings grew apace in the box in which 
he and Debby kept their “ fund,” hidden in 
Debby’s bureau drawer. 

The next great occasion after the quilting 
was the Thanksgiving Day — on which Priscy 
Dole was married. Priscy laughingly said 


dory’s fate 


109 


that her wedding had been quite thrown into 
the shade by the finding of Dory. 

Truly, never had there been such a Thanks- 
giving in the Dole family — for “ that which 
was lost was found.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


A GREAT DAY 

Even more food was prepared for the 
Thanksgiving Day than for the muster or for 
the quilting. Many turkeys and chickens were 
killed, though there was to be no such party 
of neighbours. Only the family were to be 
present at the dinner; but many of the distant 
members were coming, so that the house would 
be full. After dinner Doctor Dilway, the min- 
ister, Doctor Barron, Mr. Bannock, and their 
families, with more of the relatives, a goodly 
number, would come to the wedding. Then 
cake and flip would be served, with nuts and 
apples. Then Captain Lem would drive his 
bride, in his own sleigh, to their home, where 
his and her “ folks ” had been “ fixing things,” 
more or less, all winter. It was a simple and 
beautiful way to do. 


no 


A GREAT DAY 


I I 1 


The pantry in the new home was stocked 
by Mrs. Dole with good things to eat. Priscy 
herself had been making pickles and preserves 
for it for months. The chests were full of 
linen, most of which she and her mother had 
spun and woven. Everything was honest, 
well made, simple, useful. Nothing was for 
show or cheap or poor. In the great fireplace 
in the sanded kitchen a vast backlog \vas laid, 
and fire would be carried in the foot - stove 
after the wedding to light it. Then she and 
Captain Lem would have their supper alone 
together in their new home. No fuss and silly 
nonsense over a wedding tour, with all its 
weariness and expense. Some things were 
done better in the old times than now. 

For days before the wedding Mrs. Dole, 
who was the most “ forehanded ” of women, 
and had brought up her children to be the 
same, had had ready laid out on the spare 
room bed the pretty slippers and silk stockings 
and the rich snuff-coloured silk wedding-gown, 
with its “ real thread ” lace in the neck and at 
the sleeves. Snuff-colour does not seem to us 
nowadays a pretty shade for a girl’s wedding- 
gown, but people were very practical in those 


I 12 


THE DOLE TWINS 


times. Mrs. Dole knew that Priscy would 
probably have no more silk gowns for years 
to come. Snufif-colour was a durable and 
“ dq^endable ” one, — to use a word common 
in Birchmont in those days, — and so snuff- 
colour, or slate-colour, or plum, or some other 
dark, “ well-wearing ” shade was generally 
chosen for a wedding-dress, especially in the 
winter. 

The Dole children had the great advantage, 
which was shared by most of the children in 
Birchmont, of having two grandfathers and 
two grandmothers. “ Grandpa and Grandma 
Dole ” lived on a large farm only two or three 
miles below their son’s, on the Deei*field River. 
“ Grandpa and Grandma Longley,” Mrs. 
Dole’s parents, lived over in Pentland. Gener- 
ally the Doles went for Thanksgiving to the 
home of either Grandpa Dole or Grandpa 
Longley, but this year, on account of the wed- 
ding, the whole family on both sides was to 
gather at the ’Squire’s. 

Again, more than thirty happy people 
crowded the great table in the clean Dole 
kitchen. Later, as many more of friends and 
relatives appeared. The dishes were washed 


A GREAT DAY 


113 


and put away as if by magic, and then the chil- 
dren were all calmed down after their play, 
and disposed in various spots where they were 
told to sit still, on peril of their lives. Debby 
and Dory were planted on the old haircloth 
sofa, which held them and four or five other 
children besides. The elders, too, took seats 
around the room, and there was a hush. 

Then in came Captain Lem in full uniform, 
with Priscy, in her fine snuff-coloured silk, 
holding on to his arm, and lagging a step be- 
hind him. She could hardly hold up her head 
for her modesty, and her cheeks were redder 
than on those memorable Sundays when she 
was “ cried ” in church. 

With dignity and propriety they stepped 
slowly across the room, and finally took up 
their station, to the twins’ great delight, 
directly in front of the sofa. There they 
wheeled around, and Doctor Dilway came for- 
ward, raised his hands, and said, “ Let us 
pray.” 

Then followed a brief marriage service, 
after which there was great shaking of hands 
and kissing of the bride. 

Then the ’Sf|uire, though h'e did not fully 


THE DOLE TWINS 


II4 

approve of it, and later dropped the custom 
altogether, made the wedding-flip. 

First he took some of the home-made root 
beer, of which nearly every family along the 
river made a barrelful several times each year, 
and put in a liberal flavouring of old rum, the 
best kind of which was brought from the 
West Indies. Then he added plenty of sugar 
and spices. Then he took a thick, short iron 
rod, made on purpose at the town “ furnace,” 
heated it red-hot, and thrust it into the mix- 
ture. 

Of course there was a great “ siss-s-s-s ” 
and a tremendous bubbling up, and then the 
mug was passed from hand to hand, while the 
’Squire proceeded to make several more mug- 
fuls in the same way. 

Just before it began to grow dark, the bride 
and groom were tucked into their sleigh, which 
was filled with bags and bundles of clothing 
and food. Then, amid a shower of old shoes, 
they drove away. The rice custom was not 
then prevalent in Birchmont. 

There was still considerable laughter and 
joking. Several of the young people present 





A GREAT DAY 


117 


were believed to have intentions of marriage 
and they had to bear much chafifing. 

Soon other sleighs came around, one by 
one. By the time it was fairly dark, the 
merry company had all departed for their 
homes, and the Dole family were left to them- 
selves, feeling as though a whirlwind had 
passed over them. They were sad, too, in spite 
of all the jollity. They could not help realiz- 
ing now, especially the older ones, that the 
beautiful, gentle, eldest daughter was no 
longer a member of their home. 

In those old days, when the modes of light- 
ing were very poor, there was a vast deal of 
story-telling done. People used their eyes in 
the evenings as little as possible, and went to 
bed early. Those who could tell a good story 
were in great demand, to while away the long 
winter evenings. Thanksgiving was one of 
the chief story - telling times of the whole 
year. The dinner was over early, there was a 
“ picked-up ” supper, and then everybody was 
tired, and wanted to get the evening over 
in the shortest and pleasantest way possible. 

Of all the story-tellers that they knew, the 
Dole children considered Aunt Spiddy the 


Il8 THE DOLE TWINS 

“ very cap and button.” She seemed to have 
an inexhaustible fund of new stories, and she 
had the faculty of telling the dear old ones 
always in the same way. You all know how 
trying it is to have old stories told us in new 
ways — which are never so good as the time- 
honoured, familiar ones. 

So to-night, after the commotion had sub- 
sided, and they were all gathered around the 
kitchen fire, which was blazing high, it was not 
strange that little Hiram said, “ Now tell us a 
story. Aunt Spiddy,” and that the others 
echoed his request. 

“ Wedl knit extra fast,” pleaded Mrs. Dole, 
who never sat down, nor allowed her daughters 
to sit down, without some useful work in their 
hands. As petticoats, and all sorts of under- 
clothing, and counterpanes and many other 
articles of household convenience could be 
knitted, there was always an abundance of 
knitting to be done. The yarn had to be spun 
generally by daylight, but the knitting took 
place mostly in the evenings. 

“ Oh, I can knit and talk, too,” declared 
Aunt Spiddy, but Betsey insisted on taking 


A GREAT DAY 


II9 

away her knitting, and then Aunt Spiddy 
began : 

“ Yes, I have thought of a story that I have 
never told you. The reason is because it 
is about something wrong that I did once. 
Probably nobody ever likes to remember her 
sins. But I repented of this one almost as soon 
as I had done it. Then I made all the restitu- 
tion I could, and was forgiven, so I think I will 
tell you about it.” 

“Oh, do! ” pleaded little Electa, with shin- 
ing eyes. Electa had been in deep disgrace for 
taking cookies from the jar and giving some to 
a “ packman ” who came to the door and 
wheedled her. The tramps of those days were 
called “ packmen.” There were a good many 
of them, and the children were even more 
afraid of them then than now. It was a rule 
at the Doles’ not to give to packmen, and 
Electa knew it. She had been punished with 
extra “ stents ” at knitting and spinning, and 
had almost cried her little eyes out. It did not 
seem possible to her that Aunt Spiddy could 
ever have been naughty, but it was most inter- 
esting to hear this sensational announcement. 

‘ “ Yes,” sighed Aunt Spiddy. “ Eirst, I was 


120 


THE DOLE TWINS 


covetous, and broke the Tenth Commandment 
— and then others — as you shall learn. I 
wonder if you ever heard of the famous Dark 
Day.” 

Yes, the older children had all heard of it, 
and the ’Squire said, “ I remember it very 
well.” 

“ Perhaps you may remember that I was 
away from home at that time, visiting over at 
Aunt Roxy’s house,” continued Aunt Spiddy, 
and the ’Squire nodded smilingly. “ I used to 
love to go over there. All of Aunt Roxy’s 
and Uncle Silas’s children were grown up and 
lived in homes of their own, but they had left 
behind them a good many playthings and 
‘ pretties ’ of various kinds, which I was al- 
lowed to look over and play with. Then I 
always went when my father was going on 
some business, and the ride with him was one 
of the pleasantest parts of the whole. We had 
a horse called Pound, because she put her feet 
down hard. But she was a good traveller. 
Your father and I never will forget her.” 

“ No, indeed,” mused the ’Squire. “ As 
good a horse as Trotty. I couldn’t say more.” 

“ I recollect that on the way we passed a 


A GREAT DAY 


121 


well-sweep, twice as high as ours at home. It 
was so high that I did not think it was a well- 
sweep at all. I asked my father if that was the 
North Pole. Oh, how he laughed! A little 
later we met a donkey, with long, long ears, 
and I asked father if that was a new-fashioned 
cow. He used to say that he got as much fun 
out of these long drives as I did. 

“ It was about twelve miles over to Aunt 
Roxy’s, but that was before I had my fall, and 
I didn’t mind abit a ride of twice that length. 
I felt just like having some sport, and so I told 
father to let me out before we came to Uncle 
Silas’s driveway, so that I could run ahead by 
a short cut and surprise Aunt Roxy. I was 
pretty sure that I should find her sitting in a 
corner of the kitchen, carding wool. If I did, 
I would run up behind her and ‘ boo ’ at her, 
and so I did just that. 

“ Then Uncle Silas came along and helped 
father put up the horse and then we had 
supper. The Revolution was going on at that 
time (it was in 1780), and so the men had to 
talk over the war news, which was interesting 
to us all. 

“ After supper Aunt Roxy took out some of 


122 


THE DOLE TWINS 


her pretty china pieces for me to look at. I 
loved the dark blue tea-set which she had had 
when she was married ; there had never been a 
single piece broken up to that day. That tea- 
set went to my Cousin Delight ; but, oh, how I 
should have liked to have it myself ! Then 
there was a wonderful pink cup and saucer 
which had been sent to Uncle Silas by a sailor 
he had been kind to. But the prettiest of 
all was a little blue •sugar-bowl. It had a 
round, smooth little body, as white as milk, and 
thickly strewn with bright blue snowflakes, as 
it were. On one side of it, amid these blue 
snowflakes, appeared a sleek blue cat. On the 
other was a snub-nosed, funny little blue dog. 
The cover, with its little blue, pointed knob, 
was, I thought, the very most fascinating thing 
I had ever seen in my life. 

“ Now, I had always liked that blue sugar- 
bowl. But this night I thought it was prettier 
than ever. I hugged it and kissed it, and held 
it in my hand so long and so tenderly that Aunt 
Roxy said at last, ‘ I declare, Spiddy, if I 
hadn’t promised that blue sugar-bowl to De- 
light long ago, I would give it to you.’ 

“ Now, I had not really thought of having 


A GREAT DAY 


123 


that beautiful sugar-bowl for my own until 
that very moment. It had been enough for me 
to hold it in my hand and ‘ love ’ it. But from 
that time until I went to bed I kept saying to 
myself, ‘Oh, I wish I could have it! Cousin 
Delight is going to have all of the dark blue 
tea-set. It isn’t fair for her to have this, too. 
I’m a little niece, and Aunt Roxy says she loves 
me. I should think she would give that pretty 
sugar-bowl to me when she sees that I want it 
so.’ ” 

Aunt Spiddy paused a moment as though 
the confession of her covetousness were almost 
too much for her. 

“ Well, did she give it to you ? ” asked little 
Thankful, a trifle impatiently. 

“ In a moment you shall see,” replied Aunt 
Spiddy. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 

At eight o’clock I went to bed in the little, 
low, west chamber where I always slept. I 
carried the candle and Aunt Roxy carried the 
big warming-pan, full of coals. She said the 
bed had been made for a week or more, and 
she was afraid it would be damp. So she laid 
the pan in the bed, moving it gently around 
until I had slipped off my clothes, looking at 
the wonderful things around me while I was 
undressing. Aunt Roxy had the most remark- 
able spreads and curtains in the world. A pink 
“ calaminck ” spread, quilted in tiny shells, was 
laid over the top of my bed, and one made of 
brown “ durant ” hung over the foot. There 
was no danger that anybody would ever be 
cold in Aunt Roxy’s house. 

But the curtains were the most marvellous of 

124 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 12$ 


all. They had been brought over in the May- 
Hozuer by some of Aunt Roxy’s forbears, and 
were covered with red pictures, representing 
war. In one place there was a horse, fallen 
forward on his knees, with his rider pitching 
over his head ; in another, two men were hav- 
ing a hand-to-hand fight. One of them was 
just about plunging a poniard into another. 

“ There were plenty more of the same sort, 
and when I went to sleep my head was -so full 
of swords and helmets and horses with fiery 
eyes, that they seemed to dance about the room 
all night long. In the morning I remember 
that we swung a kettle of cold water and vine- 
gar on the crane and in that we put some of 
the blue paper that comes around the loaf- 
sugar, and we dyed some stockings in it — just 
as your mother does now. I helped about that, 
and then about fixing up the garden border — 
for it was in the spring and just time to be 
making the garden — and then I helped to get 
dinner. I remember that we had “ pot luck,” 
and I shredded the cabbage and cut up the 
carrots and beets and turnips into the kettle 
where the meat was boiling. When it was 
all done, and oh, so good ! — Aunt Roxy knew 


126 


THE DOLE TWINS 


just how to season and mix it all — then I 
helped to dish it up on the big, deep pewter 
platter. But all day long I thought of the 
little blue sugar-bowl and whenever I was 
where I could, I kept my eyes on it, up in its 
place in Aunt Roxy’s tall china cupboard, with 
glass doors. 

“ The next night, when I had settled down 
under the warlike bed-curtains and was get- 
ting warm with the pink calaminck quilt, I 
kept thinking more and more about the sugar- 
bowl. I had been playing with it the whole 
evening, and while I had been musing over it 
‘ the fire had burned.’ Now it 1)urned fiercer 
than ever. I felt that I simply must have it for 
my own. I was so much excited that I could 
not go to sleep, and I tossed and tumbled 
around in the big feather bed for what seemed 
to me hours and hours. 

“ At last, I fell into a sort of strange state. 
I began to wonder if Aunt Spiddy would miss 
the sugar-bowl if I should take it from its 
place and bring it up into my room. How I 
should like to play with it this very minute! 
Sometimes I was afraid of the dark — but that 
night I had no fear whatever. I determined 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 12/ 


to go softly down into the kitchen and get the 
siigar-bowl, anyhow. It didn’t take me more 
than a minute to carry out my plan. 

“ How still the kitchen 
was ! Aunt Roxy’s 
bedroom opened right 
out of it just as your 
mother’s room does 
here. I could hear her 
deep breathing, and 
Uncle Silas’s, as I care- 
fully lifted a chair and 
set it in front of the 
dresser. There was a 
great bed of coals among 
the ashes that covered 
the backlog, and they 
shed enough light for 
me to see by. I climbed 
up in the chair, unbut- 
toned the dresser door 
and then lifted down my 
treasure. Then there was an awful crash.” 

“ Oh, my! You didn’t break it, did you? ” 
exclaimed Debby. 

“ Oh, no — it was only the chair that fell 



128 


THE DOLE TWINS 


over as I stepped out of it. It waked up Uncle 
Silas, and he muttered in the hoarse voice that 
people have when they have been asleep, 
‘ Roxy, you didn’t put out that pesky cat. 
Drat her ! ’ ” 

The children laughed immoderately to hear 
Aunt Spiddy imitate Uncle Silas. 

“ Then the dog began to bark,” went on 
Aunt Spiddy, “ but I was under the bedclothes 
in the west chamber by that time, trembling all 
over — and I had the little blue sugar-bowl 
clutched tightly in both my hands. 

“ Then everything quieted down, and pretty 
soon I went fast asleep in spite of a guilty feel- 
ing at my heart. I held the little sugar-bowl 
in my hands all night long. 

“ In the morning, I hid it behind something 
in the room. When I went down to breakfast, 
it seemed as though there were the largest hole 
I had ever seen in my life, up in the dresser, 
where the sugar-bowl had stood. It seemed to 
me that Aunt Roxy might ask at any minute, 
‘ Why, what has become of that blue sugar- 
bowl ? ’ And then it seemed as though I should 
sink through the floor, if I had to confess that 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 1 2g 

it was hidden up in my room. But she did not 
look that way at all. 

“ I could not eat any breakfast. ‘ Didn’t 
you sleep well ? ’ Aunt Roxy asked me. ‘ Oh, 
pretty well,’ I told her. ‘ Did the cat bother 
you ? ’ she asked. I told her ‘ No, ma’am.’ 
She said that the cat had waked up her and 
Uncle Silas out of a sound sleep. She said 
that cat ‘ beats all the cats she ever knew to 
range ’round nights.’ 

“ You can imagine how guilty all this made 
me feel. I helped Aunt Roxy to wash the 
dishes and work in the garden, but I was per- 
fectly wretched. About ten o’clock it began to 
grow dark. 

“ ‘ It is going to rain,’ Aunt Roxy said at 
first. Then she studied the sky for awhile and 
said it didn’t really look like rain either, but it 
grew so dark presently that we could not see 
to work in the garden, and then we went into 
the house. ‘ We will wait until it lightens up 
a bit,’ Aunt Roxy said. 

“ But it did not ‘ lighten up.’ Instead, the 
twilight grew deeper and deeper. About 
eleven o’clock the men-folks came trooping 
into the house — Uncle Silas and my father 


130 


THE DOLE TWINS 


and the two hired men. They were a good 
deal worried — having it grow dark in the 
middle of the day so. But Aunt Roxy had 
had a chicken killed, and she went on getting 
dinner ready, though she looked pretty anx- 
ious. 

“ The hens all went to roost. The stars 
came out in the sky. By noon it was pitchy 
dark. Uncle Silas, who was very strong on 
the Scriptures, said he did not know but a new 
Joshua had arisen to turn the sun back in his 
course. 

“ The neighbours came dropping in by twos 
and threes. Everybody was puzzled and most 
were frightened. It was the general belief 
that the Day of Judgment was at hand. 

“ There was a famous minister in that town 
in those days. His name was Parson Byles.^ 
At last Aunt Roxy said : ‘ I don’t know as I’m 
really scared, Silas. I’m trusting the Lord, 
but I would like to know what Parson Byles 
thinks about all this.’ 

“ ‘ So would I,’ said Uncle Silas. 

' This incident really occurred in eastern Massachusetts, as 
all students of New England history wall remember. — K. 

U. C. 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT I3I 

“ It was three good miles to the parson’s 
house, but Uncle Silas lighted his tin lantern 
and saddled his horse, and set out for Parson 
Byles’s. 

“ The sound of his horse’s feet had hardly 
died away in the distance when I started up- 
stairs as fast as I could go. I had been cry- 
ing, stretched out on the kitchen settle, most 
of the time since Aunt Roxy and I had come 
in from the garden, but everybody was in such 
a panic that nobody paid any attention to me. 
When I reached the west chamber, I took the 
little blue sugar-bowl out of its hiding-place, 
and then I hurried down-stairs with it as fast 
as I could go. 

“ ‘ Aunt Roxy,’ I said, trembling all over 
and speaking very solemnly, ‘ I know we are 
going to die and I have been very wicked. I 
took the little blue sugar-bowl out of the 
dresser last night, and I was going to carry it 
home with me — I* wanted it so ! But now I 
see how wicked T have been. Oh, will God 
ever forgive me? And will you forgive me, 
Aunt Roxy? Oh, oh, oh! ’ 

“ And then Aunt Roxy took me up in her 
lap and stroked my hair and kissed me, and 


132 


THE DOLE TWINS 


told me over and over that she was sure God 
would forgive me, for she did. She begged 
me to stop crying, for she believed I had had 
a lesson. By that time so many neighbours 
had come in that I felt ashamed, great girl as 
I was, nearly ten years old, to be crying in 
Aunt Roxy’s lap, so I went off again to the 
settle. It was not very long before Uncle 
Silas was back again, and we all flocked to the 
stoop to meet him. 

“ ‘ The parson’s the man for me! ’ he crie 1, 
as he alighted from his horse, in much better 
spirits than when he started away. ‘ The par- 
son says — ha, ha! — that he is just as much 
in the dark as the rest of us are — ha, ha ! — 
but he has no doubt everything is all right, 
and’ — here Uncle Silas drew himself up 
soberly, for he was a good man and would not 
speak lightly of sacred things — ‘ that we are 
to trust God and, so far as we can, to go about 
our business.’ 

“ This sensible message did everybody 
good. The neighbours began to scatter to 
their homes, dark though it was, and soon we 
ate our dinner, for it was long past the time. 
Then I swept up the kitchen with one of Aunt 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 1 33 

Roxy’s fine split-birch brooms. They didn’t 
raise broom-corn, as your father does now. 
Uncle Silas said : ‘ Well, even if it is dark 

outdoors, I can run some spoons.’ So he 
melted some pewter — he had an uncommonly 
good mould for spoons — and made three fine 
spoons to send to my mother. My father had 
meant to start for home right after dinner, 
but, of course, he could not start off in the 
dark, so we stayed on. Thanks to the good 
sense of Parson Byles, we passed a comfort- 
able day and managed to rest fairly well dur- 
ing the fearfully dark night which followed, 
the darkest night ever known in these parts. 

“ You can imagine how happy we all were 
when the sun rose, bright and clear, the next 
morning. It seemed as though he had never 
before brought such cheer and comfort. Then 
father and I set out for home. 

“ When we were getting ready to start, 
Aunt Roxy came hurrying out with a little 
bundle. 

“ ‘ This is for you, child. I came near for- 
getting it.’ 

“ ‘ Oh,’ I said. ‘ Is it the little blue sugar- 
bowl ? ’ 


134 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ ‘ Yes,’ she said. ‘ I am sure Delight won’t 
mind if I give it to you.’ 

“ ‘ Oh, Aunt Roxy,’ I said, ‘ I mustn’t take 
it — oh, I mustn’t. I don’t want it. I want 
to be punished. I have been so bad. I 
couldn’t take it.’ And I was so earnest that 
Aunt Roxy finally carried it back into the 
house. You see, much as I loved it, I knew I 
didn’t deserve it, and you can’t ever enjoy any- 
thing you don’t deserve. I have never re- 
gretted that I didn’t take it. But it was a fine, 
dainty little piece of china, and I want you 
children to be sure and see it when you go 
visiting over at Cousin Delight’s, and then you 
will remember the Dark Day, and what a 
naughty girl your poor Aunt Spiddy was. 
People ask sometimes what such a mysterious 
thing as that Dark Day could mean, but T 
know one purpose it accomplished; it made a 
little girl see her sin and confess it, and that 
was purpose enough for me.” 

About a week after Thanksgiving the river 
froze over. It had been skimmed with ice a 
good many times, and the steady cold weather 
had sealed up the ponds, but the river was 


THE DARK DAY AND AN ACCIDENT 1 35 


rapid, and it seldom froze quite over until 
some time after Thanksgiving. 

There were only three or four pairs of 
skates in the town at that time, and one of 
these belonged to Ben Dole. He was very 
“ choice ” of these wonderful skates and would 
lend them to nobody, unless it might be 
Ezekiel Carroll, who was his bosom friend, 
and would, as Ben knew, be vei'y careful of 
them. Oh, how Dory longed to take those 
skates ! 

“ If I could only have a pair of skates like 
Ben’s,” he would confide to Debby, “ I should 
be perfectly happy.” 

“ I want some as much as you do,” Debby 
would respond. “ But there’s no use, we can’t 
have any.” 

“ No, it will take all we can earn for ever 
so long to get those” 

“ Yes, but I am going to get the shells done 
on Mrs. Bannock’s quilt before long,” said 
Debby, hopefully. “ And mother says I may 
cover buttons then, and Chatty Mellen makes 
lots of money covering buttons for the factory 
down on the Connecticut River.” 

Dory contemplated her with more admira- 


136 


THE DOLE TWINS 


tion than ever. He made up his mind that he 
would find some way of earning money which 
should “ bring him up even ” with Debby, 
who seemed to be getting ahead of him. 

“ In the meantime,” suggested Debby, 
“ let’s go out and slide on the river. It’s just 
as glare as it can be. You pull me along with 
your comforter.” 

“ May I go, too? ” begged little Joshua. 

“ Oh, you’ll fall into an air-hole. You can’t 
go” 

But Joshua teased so hard that his mother 
finally said he might go, if Dory and Debby 
would look after him every minute, and the 
children started ofif gaily. 


CHAPTER XL 


AN ACCIDENT 

The great danger of sliding on the river 
was, as Debby had told Joshua, that one might 
fall into an air-hole. They had a rude sled, 
with wooden runners, on which they drew 
each other. Then Dory dragged Debby at 
the end of his long, stout “ comforter,” which 
Aunt Spiddy had knit for him. Then Debby 
dragged Joshua in the same way, while Dory 
played “ Crack the Whip ” with a long string 
of the village boys. 

Little by little they slid along until they sud- 
denly found themselves a mile or more away 
from the vicinity of their own home. But 
they were heated and excited with their play 
and did not mind a little thing like a walk of 
a mile up the river in the biting wind. 

The ice was, as Debby had said, very 
137 


138 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ glare.” If Joshua let go of the comforter 
while Debby was running with him he would 
slide of¥ as if he had been a little, smooth 
pebble. He could not guide or stop himself at 
all. But no harm had come of this, so Debby 
kept on and on. Several other children were 
pulling their friends in the same way. They 
all fell into spasms of laughter when those who 
were pulled let go or were twitched from one 
side to the other by the pullers, thus making 
all kinds of funny motions and often tumbling 
over. 

Suddenly little Joshua let go of the com- 
forter too near one of these dangerous air- 
holes, and before anybody could reach him 
down he slid into it, so hard that he shot under 
the ice ten feet or more down the river. 

The agonized shrieks of the children near, 
most of them girls and very small boys, soon 
brought down the larger boys who had been 
playing games a hundred rods or more away. 
Through the clear, green ice they could plainly 
see the fonn of the poor little boy — but the 
ice was inches thick, and the logs and stones 
with which the boys tried to break it did not 
seem of any use. 


AN ACCIDENT 


139 


Just as the accident occurred, a young' man 
was riding along the road, which lay directly 
along the river bank. Debby recognized him 
at once as Orlando Hanners, the son of the 
clerk of the church, and screamed out to 
him : “ Get my brother out ! Get my brother 
out ! ” 

As it transpired afterward, he heard her 
perfectly, but he was on his way to obtain his 
wedding license, and he had not an instant to 
spare. Debby laid his selfishness up against 
him for all the rest of her life, and often in 
her later years pointed him out to her de- 
scendants as the man who rode on uncon- 
cernedly when he knew that a little boy was 
drowning close by. 

Minutes, which seemed to Debby hours, 
passed before anybody else came along, while 
the boys were hammering uselessly at the ice, 
and little Joshua was drifting down the 
stream. Then, good Mr. Mellen appeared, 
and, as luck would have it, in his sleigh he 
happened to be carrying an axe. If it had not 
been for that axe, dear little Joshua, who was 
the Dole baby, a beautiful child, with dark, 
curling hair and large expressive eyes, would 


140 


THE DOLE TWINS 


probably have been drowned beyond any 
chance of resuscitation. 

Mr. Mellen realized in an instant the gravity 
of the situation and ran for the place, with his 
axe in his hand. In two minutes after the 
children had stopped him he had cracked the 
ice for many feet below the spot where Joshua 
was lying when Mr. Mellen first reached the 
river. The boy did not sink, for the current 
was too swift. His body veered a little just as 
it was approaching the hole, and for an instant 
they all held their breath. What if he should 
be carried by, so far to one side that they 
could not reach him ! 

But, mercifully, this was not the case. Two 
of the lightest and strongest boys were 
stationed on each side of the jagged hole 
which had been made. Mr. Mellen, who mut- 
tered that “he wished he were about a hundred 
pounds lighter,” — for he was a heavy ma.n, — 
waited on the lower edge. It was fortunate 
that he did so, for, though the ice kept break- 
ing away under him, he was quick enough to 
keep sliding along backward, and the boys, 
frightened as they were, and stiff with the 
cold, could not grasp the child’s clothing as 


AN ACCIDENT 


I 41 

he passed them. Mr. Mellen did this, with a 
grip like iron, and managed to pull the drip- 
ping child from the water. Then he turned 
him, nearly frozen and wholly unconscious as 
he was, over and over, until all the water 
seemed to be out of his mouth. Then, wrap- 
ping him in one of the sleigh robes, he tucked 
him, with Debby and Dory, — both of them 
crying and shaking with terror, — into his big 
sleigh and drove like mad to the nearest 
house, which happened to be that of Mr. 
Darius Fuller. 

There the boy was laid on the kitchen settle, 
while Mr. Mellen started for the doctor and 
for Mrs. Dole. 

Good Mrs. Fuller was almost as frightened 
as Debby and Dory were. She was an ex- 
cellent woman, but lacking in what used to be 
called “ head.” All that she could think of to 
do was to get the camphor bottle and hold it to 
little Joshua’s nose and to rub his face and 
hands. Naturally, this did not “ bring him 
to ” very fast. The twins watched her mo- 
tions for fully five minutes, and listened to her 
broken ejaculations. Then, seeing that the 
boy still lay white and motionless, Debby 


142 


THE DOLE TWINS 


cried, “ Oh', he never will open his eyes ! He 
is dead, Mrs. Fuller! Isn’t there something 
we can do — something better than smelling 
camphor? Oh, there must be! ” 

In her poor, childish mind, she cast about 
for some means to help this dear little brother. 
What had she ever heard of — what had her 
father or mother ever said about restoring 
drowned people? In her panic, she could 
think of nothing. But she remembered that 
Mr. Mellen had rolled the boy — and had said 
he wished he could roll him longer. Intui- 
tively she felt that motion would bring back 
that lost little life sooner than anything else. 

A warm blanket was wrapped around him 
as he lay on the settle. 

“ I’m going to roll him on the floor! ” she 
cried, impetuously. “ Help me, Dory ! Care- 
fully — there — clear up around his head — • 
now it can’t hurt him — and maybe it will 
bring the breath back — see, Mrs. Fuller.” 

Mrs. Fuller might not be very quick to think 
of things herself, but she knew a good idea 
when she saw it in operation. 

“ I believe it tvill be a good plan,” she 
agreed. “ Let me get some more blankets.” 


AN ACCIDENT 


143 


In an instant several more soft, thick 
blankets were spread on the sanded floor, and 
over these the little drowned boy was rolled 
and rolled, Mrs. Fuller lifting him up two or 
three times by his heels, so that more water 
could run out of his mouth. 

Mr. Mellen had taken pains to pull the 
child’s tongue forward, and the vigorous 
handling to which he was now subjected 
started the frozen blood into circulation. Be- 
fore they had worked ten minutes, they could 
plainly feel the beating of the little heart, 
which seemed to have stopped when he was 
brought in. Then a little hot stimulant was 
poured into his mouth, and by the time Mr. 
Mellen returned, bringing Mrs Dole, with a 
promise that the doctor would be there in a few 
minutes, little Joshua had his eyes open, and 
was able to smile faintly upon his agonized 
brother and sister. 

A crowd of children were lingering around, 
waiting to hear the news. If Mrs. Fuller had 
not locked the door, there would have been so 
large a mob in the kitchen that there would 
have been little enough room to care for the 
invalid. But she had “ shooed ” them all 


144 


THE DOLE TWINS 


away, and said that if she needed any of them 
she would tell them so. Now she sent Dory 
out to inform them that Joshua had revived, 
and would probably get along all right. 
“ But,” added Dory, as a message from Mrs. 
Fuller, “ you had better keep of¥ the river until 
you can fight shy of the air-holes.” 

Such advice was hardly needed. For days 
after this almost fatal accident, few children 
were seen upon the river. As for the Dole 
family, they scarcely set foot on the ice during 
the rest of the winter; though little Joshua, 
who was able to be carried home that after- 
noon, soon became quite well again. 

Dory’s love and admiration for his quick- 
witted twin sister was doubled by this occur- 
rence. 

“ Joshua would surely have died before you 
got there,” he told his mother, solemnly, “ if 
Debby hadn’t taken matters into her own 
hands.” 

And very likely this is so. 

But that beautiful river did as much, per- 
haps, to educate the Dole children as the red 
schoolhouse which they all attended. With 
the exception of this one terrible winter, they 


AN ACCIDENT 


145 


played on it when it was frozen, and all sum- 
mer they were floating on its waters in tubs 
and rafts and the taut little rowboat, the 
Jcrusha, which, when they reached a certain 
age, they were permitted to use. The time 
when the ice went out in the spring was one of 
wild excitement. To hear the deafening re- 
ports which often burst upon the ear as the 
great cakes were riven from the main body, 
was a thrilling experience. Then, when the 
floods came down, strewing the banks with 
vast fragments of ice, which fell gradually 
away in glittering ice needles, a wholesome 
fear of the river would pervade them all. 
This would disappear, however, as the high 
water would subside, and the warm days came 
on. Then out would come the tubs and rafts 
— and into the water would cheerfully tumble 
one or more of the Doles and Mellens almost 
every day. But they all leamed early to swim, 
and none of them ever came so near to being 
drowned as did dear little Joshua on that 
bitter winter’s day. 

The season passed on, busily and happily. 
Some days Debby had to make pearlash 
(saleratus) for her mother. It could not be 


146 


THE DOLE TWINS 


bought then, as now. For half a day at a time 
she had to scrape the white ashes from sticks 
of burned wood, oh, so carefully, until the box 
was cjuite full. Sometimes, too, she had to 
pare and stew potatoes, and strain off the 
starch from them. This was the only starch 
which the people had in those days. 

Mrs. Bannock’s quilt was finally finished. 
As Debby had expected, Mrs. Bannock herself 
did a large share of the work, but the coveted 
dollar was quietly passed over to the little girl 
and put into the box for the beautiful crutches 
for Aunt Spiddy. Debby had covered dozens 
and dozens of buttons with “ lasting ” for the 
button factory ; and the man who came around 
to collect them said, as he paid her the pennies 
which she had so hardly earned, that nobody 
in town did it any better. Besides, a palm-leaf 
hat factory had been set up at Verton, the 
county town, and both Dory and Debby had 
pleaded to learn how to braid and had earned 
something before spring at this new work. 

But time was hard to get. The children 
liked dear old Mr. Willetts, the school-teacher, 
and had to study a good deal out of school 
hours. Ben and Betsey went to singing 


AN ACCIDENT 


147 


school, and once in a great while the twins 
were allowed as a special favour to go, too. 

Every day Debby had to do her “ stent ” 
on her sampler, on the spinning, and on a blue 
stocking which she was knitting. When she 
finished one, another was straightway begun. 
Oh, there was so much to do ! — more than 
ever, of course, for all of them now that 
Priscy was gone. Dory, too, had chores to 
do at the barn and around the house. He 
worked just as hard as Debby did. 

The work that Debby liked best of all was 
that on her sampler. On the walls of the par- 
lour hung two or three paintings which had 
been done by Mrs. Dole and Aunt Spiddy in 
their youth. One of these was of a rose. 
Another was of a weeping willow, hanging 
over a grave. Another was of a house planted 
exactly between two trees. These might have 
been maple or ash or elm, or almost any other 
tree. Even the accomplished artist herself 
could not have told you just what species they 
belonged to. There were also several silhou- 
ettes of Debby’s ancestors. Silhouettes were 
all that people had in those days, excepting 


148 


THE DOLE TWINS 


expensive oil portraits, to take the place of the 
convenient photograph of our own time. 

Among these works of art hung Priscy's 
sampler. Betsey’s was finished, and was only 
awaiting framing to take its position also on 
the parlour wall. Both of them contained all 
of the letters of the alphabet in three different 
texts, together with the name of the young 
“ executor,” done in still another. Priscy’s 
had a picture of a bird in the centre, and Bet- 
sey’s had a flower. Debby was going to work 
an ornate tree into hers. At the bottom of 
Priscy’s was the text, “ Children, obey your 
parents in the Lord.” Betsey’s had “ Suffer 
little children to come unto Me.” Debby’s was 
yet to be decided upon. She was ambitious 
to have her sampler look better than either of 
the others; but, between the stents and the 
buttons and the braiding and the study and 
the pearlash, and other household tasks, and 
the play, poor Debby did not get very much 
time for her sampler. 

After the ice went out in the spring there 
was a great freshet, as often happened. Then 
the cellars of most of the houses that lay along 
the river road were flooded. The Dole chil- 


AN ACCIDENT 


149 


dren did not mind this “ a little bit.” They 
made funny little rafts and paddled about in 
the cellar, g-etting the vegetables out of the 
bins as they were wanted, and fishing out the 
pieces of salt pork and corned beef from their 
barrels. These were always set up pretty 
high, for fear of just such calamities. 

Yes, it was fun for the children, but a great 
dampness throughout the house was one of 
the consequences, and the delicate ones were 
likely to suffer in health. 

This year it was Aunt.Spiddy who fell ill. 
Doctor Barron called her difficulty inflam- 
mation of the lungs. Nowadays it would 
probably be named pneumonia. She was very 
weak, and her mind wandered almost from 
the first. For many days she hung between 
life and death. The doctor bled her copiously, 
applying leeches to her and putting draughts 
on her feet, and giving her quantities of 
mercury. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A WILD ADVENTURE 

After an illness of less than a fortnig-ht 
dear Aunt Spiddy died. All of the Dole 
family grieved long, and sincerely for this 
gentle and loving spirit, but the twins felt the 
loss most deeply of all. They were simply 
heart-broken. 

“ And to think,” wept Debby, “ that she 
never had the beautiful crutches that we were 
saving up to get for her. Oh, it is too bad, 
too bad ! ” 

They had a number of consultations regard- 
ing what they should do with the money. 
Finally they decided that the seven dollars 
and six cents which they had painfully ac- 
cumulated, should be handed over to their 
father in order to purchase a tombstone for 
Aunt Spiddy. They had no idea how much 
150 


A WILD ADVENTURE I 5 I 

such a stone would cost, but they believed 
that this sum would very nearly purchase one. 

Taking a time on the Sunday after the 
funeral, when their father and mother were 
sitting alone in the ’Squire’s office, they con- 
fided to them the whole story of the beginning 
and progress of their kind little plot, and gave 
into the ’Squire’s hands the motley collection 
of silver which they had saved. The coinage 
in those days was not settled. Not nearly 
enough coins were minted in this country to 
supply the demand, and all sorts of foreign 
dollars, doubloons, shillings, and pence passed 
current. The twins’ seven dollars and six 
cents was a queer, heavy little bunch of 
money. 

Their parents could hardly keep the tears 
back as the children related the story of their 
cherished plan. But it was a place and an 
age in which self-control forbade all emotional 
display. The ’Squire simply said, “ You have 
been good children,” and Mrs. Dole kissed 
them and stroked their heads. 

“ I shall consider the matter,” added the 
’Squire. “ In the meantime, say nothing 
about the money. I will keep it, and your 


152 


THE DOLE TWINS 


mother and I will tell you when we have 
decided how it had best be spent. There is 
hardly enough for the purpose you suggest.” 

So the children yielded up their precious 
little fund, sure of the wisdom and the love 
of their parents. For many weeks and months 
they said no more about it, even to each other. 

In fact they sel- 
dom thought of it. 

In the meantime 
the spring came on, 
and the twins, as 
usual, made their 
gardens. Dory’s 
was filled entirely 
w i th vegetables. 

Debby’s was com- 
posed of flowering plants. Besides the mari- 
golds, hollyhocks, phlox, and Richmond 
dairies, pinks, and cinnamon roses of the con- 
ventional garden of those days, she had trans- 
planted from the woods and fields bloodroot, 
ladies’ slippers, yellow, white, and blue violets, 
trillium, adder’s tongue, columbine, jack-in-the- 
pulpit, liverwort, crane’s bill, anemones, Solo- 
mon’s seal, pyrola, and plenty more. As these 



A WILD ADVENTURE 


153 


beautiful flowers came out year by year in her 
little flower bed, Debby Dole was made very 
happy. She was willing to work every minute 
that her mother could spare her in order to 
keep her little plot neat and add to its treas- 
ures. 

Then the great “ leach tub ” near the back 
door was replenished with ashes. Through 
these the spring rains percolated briskly, until 
Mrs. Dole had accumulated a good supply of 
strong, biting lye. With this and the great 
pans full of soap-grease which she had been 
saving for months, she made up a barrelful of 
soft soap. It almost seems as if every house- 
hold could, in those days, make for itself 
everything it needed from its own farm. 
There was hard work in it, but there was 
also a feeling of magnificent independence, as 
you can realize. 

This spring Debby made her first essays in 
the art of spinning linen. She already knew 
how to hatchel the flax, of which every family 
raised a supply in its garden. Now she learned 
how to make the smooth, slippery threads, fix 
them in place, and turn the beam which wove 
them into linen cloth. She did not learn to 


154 


THE DOLE TWINS 


make the “patterns” until later, for they were 
pretty hard. Debby’s mother was a notable 
spinner and weaver of linen, and often made, 
in addition to doing all of her regular house- 
hold duties, five yards of “ yard-wide ” cloth 
in a day, which was a proud feat. 

It was while Debby was learning to spin 
linen that a distinguished gentleman came 
to visit her father. His name was General 
Myers, and he was an old college chum of 
’Squire Dole. The two men, with Mr. Ban- 
nock or Parson Dilway or Doctor Barron, 
who often dropped in, talked of politics and 
religion and all sorts of profound themes, and 
in such an interesting way that the whole 
family wanted to stop and listen. Luckily, 
most of this talking was done during the 
three or four evenings of the general’s visit, 
so that it was feasible for the children to 
garner up most of the wisdom which fell from 
his lips. He made a special pet of bright, 
black - eyed Debby, and gave her a Spanish 
doubloon, which she cherished for many years 
afterward. 

Among the stories which the General told 
were some which the children never forgot. 


A WILD ADVENTURE 


155 


One of them, at his own expense, he narrated 
with great zest. 

It was impossible in those days to clear the 
roads well from town to town in times of 
deep snow. This made the meeting of teams 
very disagreeable business, since turning out 
into the wall of snow on either side was likely 
to upset a sleigh. 

One day, when General Myers was the high 
sheriff of his county, on his way to court, he 
met a meek-looking man driving a pair of 
oxen. The snow was four feet deep on the 
level, with great drifts in many spots. 

“ I drove along briskly,” said General 
Myers, “ until I was nearly up to him. Then 
I shouted out, ‘ Make way there, my good fel- 
low ! I am the high sheriff of the county on 
my way to court.’ The man looked very 
much overcome, and, at great inconvenience, 
turned out his oxen, with a load of grain- 
bags, into the deep snow. 

“ Pretty soon another team approached, 
this time a load of wood, drawn by two large 
horses and driven by a sturdy-looking farmer. 
‘ Out of the way ! ’ shouted I. ‘ Pm the high 
sheriff of the county on my way to court ! ’ 


156 


THE DOLE TWINS 


‘ I don’t care if you’re high sheriff of the uni- 
verse ! ’ retorted the man, with true American 
spirit, ‘ I don’t turn out a load of wood like 
this for any such team as yours ! ’ So I had 
to turn out myself ! Spunky chap ! ” con- 
cluded the dignified general, as everybody 
broke into a laugh. “ But I liked him all the 
better for it.” 

It was getting nearly time to shear the 
sheep, which was a very important epoch in 
the year in Birchmont, and yet Debby and 
Dory had not been over to Grandpa Long- 
ley’s to a “ sugaring-off.” This consisted in 
dropping the warm sugar (just as soon as it 
reached the stage at which it would “ thread ” 
in water) in spoonfuls on snow packed 
into pans or great bowls. It was the chief 
spring-time luxury of Birchmont and the 
neighbouring towns. Nearly everybody in all 
the country round “ sugared off,” more or 
less, for the maple-trees were “ thick ” there, 
and most of the sugar used in each family 
during the entire year was made from them. 
Grandpa Longley’s sugar was very famous, 
and the children all counted on having a few 


A WILD ADVENTURE 


157 


days at the old Longley homestead every 
spring. 

One day when Debby had been to school ; 
had run into the blue stocking she was knit- 
ting the little white thread which marked off 
her “ stents,” and had knitted around twenty 
times from there; had worked on her sampler 
for an hour ; had done no end of errands, and 
had become pretty tired and cross, she was 
scolding as she put away the milk in the back 
pantry. Ben and Dory had milked the four 
cows, and Betsey had strained the milk. 

“ Oh, I hate to carry milk-pans,” fretted 
Debby, as a little of the warm, foamy milk 
went slopping over on the clean floor. 

“ What if you had to carry the pans clear 
up into the attic as Chatty Mellen has to ? ” 
demanded Betsey. 

“ I just wouldn’t — that’s all,” declared 
Debby. “ It is more than I can do to carry 
ours into our back buttery. There it goes 
again!” — and Debby acted as though she 
were going to cry. 

“ Oh, you silly ! ” exclaimed Betsey — 
which did not add to Debby’s tranquillity. 

“ I don’t care I ” burst forth Debby. “ The 


158 


THE DOLE TWINS 


rest of you have all been over to grandpa’s 
sugaring. Hi and Joshie were over there a 
week, and Dory and I haven’t been there for 
months and months. And the snow is ’most 
gone, and I’m so tired of staying home and 
doing stents and putting away the old milk, 
and scraping pearlash and taking up the lye, 
and spinning linen and working on my horrid 
old sampler — ” and here Debby really broke 
down and burst into tears. 

“ Now, I know something,” remarked Bet- 
sey, composedly, as she went on straining the 
milk carefully into the shining pans. “ It is 
something nice. I was going to tell you about 
it when you got through with the milk, if you 
behaved yourself. But if you go on this way, 
crying and taking on about just nothing at all, 
why, I have a great mind not to tell you.” 

“What is it?” demanded Debby, wiping 
her foolish little eyes. 

“ Oh, nothing much, only there is going to 
be a settling over in Grandpa Longley’s 
church, and father is one of the council to in- 
stall the minister, and, of course, he is going 
over.” 

As the ministers in those days usually 


A WILD ADVENTURE 


159 


Stayed a lifetime in one parish, a “ settling,’' 
as an installation was called, was an event of 
almost national importance. 

“ When ? ” asked Debby, who began to see 
what was coming. 

“ Next week, and he is going to take you on 
the pillion on Trotty, and Dory is going on 
Ben’s new pony.” 

“ Oh, my ! ” cried Debby, ecstatically. 
Then she added, mournfully, “ But the snow 
will be all gone. We can’t sugar ofif.” 

“ Oh, there’s snow till summer at grandpa’s 
back on the hill,” the sage and experienced 
Betsey reminded her, and Debby was com- 
forted. 

Everything happened just as Betsey had 
foretold, and a week later found the twins at 
Grandpa Longley’s. They reached there at 
two in the afternoon, having stopped for 
dinner at Priscy’s house, which was just about 
half-way. No sooner had they arrived than 
their grandmother said, “ Hurry up to the 
sugar-house, children. They are sugaring ofif 
a lot of sugar this afternoon, and you can 
have all you want to wax on snow. You will 
have to go back to the Wolf’s Cleft for snow. 


i6d ' the dole twins 

There’s a big drift there. It looks as if it 
might last till Fourth of July.” 

Clear up to the Wolf’s Cleft ! The children 
knew where that was. It was nearly at the 
top of Biscuit Hill, at the foot of which lay 
the great Longley farm. But when they 
should reach the sugar-house they would be 
fully a third of the way up, so they set out 
with good courage, carrying a large tin milk- 
pail in which to collect the snow. 

This milk-pail, by a stroke of excellent for- 
tune, was made of heavy material and was 
very strongly welded together — all of which 
proved to be of great advantage to the Dole 
twins about an hour later. 

They stopped at the sugar-house, and said 
“How do you do?” to their grandfather, 
who told them there was no time to lose. 
The sugar was beginning to bubble up even 
now, and they must hurry. 

So on they scrambled, over the rocks and 
through the swampy patches, seeing many 
pretty flowers and red checkerberries which 
they knew they had not time to stop and pick, 
— on — on — toward the deep, cold, lonely 
rift in the rocks, known as the Wolf’s Cleft. 


A WILD ADVENTURE l6l 

Suddenly, just as they had reached it, and 
were scraping off the stained and muddied 
crust from the top of the great snow-drift, 
some noise or some secret impulse — no one 
will ever know what made him do it — caused 
Dory to glance up. What he saw then almost 
made his heart stop beating, for just above 
them, on a rock some forty or fifty feet high, 
crouched a great cat, moving her body back 
and forth, just as domestic cats do when about 
to spring upon a mouse. Dory had two or 
three times in his life seen the bodies of wild- 
cats which had been brought in by hunters, 
and he knew that this was one of those fero- 
cious and dangerous creatures. She was evi- 
dently aiming for Debby, who was uncon- 
sciously lifting at that moment a large lump 
of the dazzling white, hard snow from the 
under part of the drift into the milk-pail. 

There was no time to warn her. At that 
instant the wildcat was springing. The boy 
uttered one awful yell of fear and rage, picked 
up the milk-pail like a flash, and dealt the brute 
a heavy blow just as she landed, fortunately a 
foot or more beyond Debby’s little red woollen 
hood, which it may have mistaken for meat. 


i 62 


THE DOLE TWINS 


The cat had taken unerring aim, but Debby 
had fallen backward at the sound of that 
terrific shriek, and thus she had escaped. 

The weight of the milk-pail, luckily in- 
creased by that of the lump of icy snow 
which the little girl had just dropped into 
it, stunned the wildcat, but it was evidently 
only benumbed. Fortunately, every country 
boy knows how to use that valuable weapon, 
the stone or “ rock,” and stones lay thickly all 
around them. Though both of the children 
were almost paralyzed with terror, they saw 
that the beast was not dead and that it was 
likely to revive before they could run to safety. 
On the instant, Dory picked up stone after 
stone and flung them on the head of the wild- 
cat with all his force, while Debby belaboured 
the prostrate creature with the milk-pail. 
When they were sure that it was dead, they 
ran down the hillside at the top of their 
speed. 

“ Where is your snow ? ” inquired Grandpa 
Longley, as the two pale, wide-eyed little be- 
ings dashed into the sugar-house. 

“ A wildcat ! We killed it ! ” they gasped, 
breathlessly, sinking down upon the rude 


A WILD ADVENTURE 163 

sugar-house stools, almost in a state of “ total 
collapse.” 

“What do you mean?” ejaculated the old 
man. “ A wildcat ! I haven’t seen one up 
there for ten years. Somebody said there was 
one around last week — but I wouldn’t believe 
it. Tried to jump on Debby! Jerusalem 
crickets! You don’t say so! And you 
stunned it with the old tin milk-pail, and then 
you and Debby killed it? Oh, come now! 
This is one of those fairy stories you hear over 
there in Birchmont ! ” 

And Grandpa Longley would not believe a 
word of what the children told him until he 
had himself climbed up to the Wolf’s Cleft, 
and found the dead wildcat there, just as they 
had said. 

The twins had no sugar that day, but they 
became great heroes. For the next week there 
was a procession of friends riding up to the 
farmhouse to see the skin of the wildcat, 
which had been carefully preserved, and which 
is still treasured among the archives of Dory’s 
descendants. 

The milk-pail was an object of special 
curiosity. 


164 


THE DOLE TWINS 


“ The boy must have hit the critter just on 
the right spot, or he never could have stunned 
it with that,” remarked one famous hunter, 
who was handling it with interest. 

Dory was glad that he did — but it was 
through a Higher Wisdom than his own that 
the stroke was achieved which probably saved 
his sister’s life. 

The next day two of the men who were 
helping to make the sugar went up to the 
Wolf’s Cleft and brought down snow — and 
so the twins had a grand sugaring-off at last. 

The summer passed, and it was time for the 
birthday party again. 

Then the twins had a surprise. 

On the morning of October 10, 1808, their 
father called them into his office and said, 
“ Your mother and I, with the other friends, 
have purchased a monument for your dear 
Aunt Spiddy, so that we do not need your 
money. On thinking the matter over, we have 
tried to think what disposition of that money, 
which you so patiently toiled to earn for her, 
would give her the most pleasure. We de- 
cided that she would rather have it expended 


A WILD ADVENTURE ' 165 

for something which you very much want for 
yourselves — and might not otherwise have. 
We thought you deserved this. As we have 
many times heard you say that what you most 
wanted in the world was a pair of skates for 
each of you, I bought you, during my last visit 
to Northampton, two pairs of the best skates 
in the town. Please regard them as a birthday 
gift to you from your dear Aunt Experience.” 

The twins could hardly speak as they ac- 
cepted the shining skates from their father’s 
hands. But though their eyes were wet, and 
though they would have given anything to 
have known that their money had gone into 
the beautiful crutches for their beloved aunt, 
and that she was alive to use them, they ap- 
preciated to the full their parents’ kindness, 
and their hearts were full of deep delight. 

The ’Squire had made two pretty good 
children as happy as human beings are often 
allowed to be in this world. And all of you 
who have read this story will admit that the 
twins had earned a' fairly clear right to all the 
joy which the skates brought them. 


THE END. 





COSY CORNER SERIES 

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well- 
known artists, and each volume has a separate attrac- 
tive cover design. 

Each I vol., i6mo, cloth , « . . $0.50 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its hero- 
ine is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, 
on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school 
Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family 
are famous in the region. 

The Qiant Scissors. 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures 
in France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex- 
periences of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.” 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is 
not, however, the central figure of the story, that place 
being taken by the “ two little knights.” 

Mildred’s Inheritance. 

A delightful little stoiy of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful 
speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is en- 
abled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the 
use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, 
happy one. 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON {Continued) 

Cicely and Other Stories for Girls. 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for 
young people. 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories. 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will 
appeal to all boys and most girls. 

Big Brother. 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of 
Steven, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the 
theme of the simple tale. 

Ole Mammy’s Torment. 

“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

The Story of Dago. 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 

The Quilt That Jack Built. 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and 
how it changed the course of his life many years after 
it was accomplished. 

Flip’s Islands of Providence. 

A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and his 
final triumph, well worth the reading. 

B— a 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A Little Puritan’s First Christmas. 

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how 
Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child 
of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty. 

The author’s motive for this story is well indicated by 
a quotation from her introduction, as follows: 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A Loyal Littic Maid. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, 
renders important services to George Washington. 

A Little Puritan Rebel. 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the 
time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of 
Massachusetts. 

A Little Puritan Pioneer. 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement 
at Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to 
the list of favorites so well known to the young people. 

A Little Puritart Bound Girl. 

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A Little Puritan Cavalier. 

The story of a “Little Puritan Cavalier” who tried 
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and 
ideals of the dead Crusaders. 

B — 3 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By QUID A {Louise de la Rafnee) 

A Dog of Flanders : a Christmas Story. 
Too well and favorably known to require description. 

The Nurnberg Stove. 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
at a popular price. 

By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 

The Little Giant’s Neighbours. 

A charming nature story of a “little giant” whose 
neighbours were the creatures of the field and garden. 

Farmer Brown and the Birds. 

A little story which teaches children that the birds 
are man’s best friends. 

Betty of Old Mackinaw. 

A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to 
the little readers who like stories of “ real people.” 

Brother Billy. 

The story of Betty’s brother, and some further ad- 
ventures of Betty herself. 

Mother Nature’s Little Ones. 

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, 
or “childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors. 

How Christmas Came to the Mul= 
vaneys. 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor chil- 
dren, with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 
The wonderful never-to-be forgotten Christmas that 
came to them is the climax of a series of exciting inci- 
dents. 

B-4 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By MISS MULOCK 

The Little Lame Prince. 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many ad- 
ventures by means of the magic gifts of his fairy god- 
mother. 

Adventures of a Brownie. 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook 
and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the 
children who love and trust him. 

His Little Mother. 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and “ His Little Mother,” in 
this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts 
of youthful readers. 

Little Sunshine’s Holiday. 

An attractive story of a summer outing. “ Little Sun- 
shine ” is another of those beautiful child-characters for 
which Miss Mulock is so justly famous. 

By MARSHALL SAUNDERS 

For His Country. 

A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved 
his country; written with that charm which has endeared 
Miss Saunders to hosts of readers. 

Nita, the Story of an Irish Setter. 

In this touching little book. Miss Saunders shows how 
dear to her heart are all of God’s dumb creatures. 

Alpatok, the Story of an Eskimo 
Dog. 

Alpatok, an Eskimo dog from the far north, was stolen 
from his master and left to starve in a strange city, but 
was befriended and cared for, until he was able to re- 
turn to his owner. 


B — .<> 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE 

The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow. 

This story, written by the gifted young Southern 
woman, will appeal to all that is best in the natures of 
the many admirers of her graceful and piquant style. 

The Fortunes of the Fellow. 

Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm 
of “ The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow” will welcome 
the further account of the adventures of Baydaw and 
the Fellow at the home of the kindly smith. 

The Best of Friends. 

This continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog and 
his Fellow, written in Miss Dromgoole’s well-known 
charming style. 

Down in Dixie. 

A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of 
Alabama children who move to Florida and grow up in 
the South. 


By MARIAN W. WILDMAN 

Loyalty Island. 

An account of the adventures of four children and 
their pet dog on an island, and how they cleared their 
brother from the suspicion of dishonesty 

Theodore and Theodora. 

This is a story of the exploits and mishaps of two mis 
chievous twins, and continues the adventures of the 
interesting group of children in “ Loyalty Island.” 

B — 6 


cosy CORNER SERIES 


By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 

The Cruise of the Yacht Dido. 

The story of two boys who turned their yacht into a 
fisliing boat to earn money to pay for a college course, 
and of their adventures while exploring in search of 
hidden treasure. 

The Lord of the Air 

The Story of the Eagle 

The King of the Mamozekel 

The Story of the Moose 

The Watchers of the Camp=fire 

THE STORY OF THE PANTHER 

The Haunter of the Pine Gloom 

THE STORY OF THE LYNX 

The Return to the Trails 

THE STORY OF THE BEAR 

The Little People of the Sycamore 

THE STORY OF THE RACCOON 

By OTHER AUTHORS 

The Great Scoop. 

By MOLLY ELLIOT SEA IV ELL 

A capital tale of newspaper life in a big city, and 
of a bright, enterprising, likable youngster employed 
thereon. 

John Whopper. 

The late Bishop Clark’s popular story of the boy who 
fell through the earth and came out in China, with a 
new introduction by Bishop Potter. 

IJ — 7 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY 


The Dole Twins. 

By KA TE UPSON CLARK 

The adventures of two little people who tried to earn 
money to buy crutches for a lame aunt. An excellent 
description of child-life about 1812, which will greatly 
interest and amuse the children of to-day, whose life is 
widely different. 

Larry Hudson’s Ambition. 

By JAMES OTIS, author of “TobyTyler,” etc. 

Larry Hudson is a typical American boy, whose hard 
work and enterprise gain him his ambition, — an educa- 
tion and a start in the world. 

The Little Christmas Shoe. 

By JANE P. SCOTT WOODRUFF 
A touching story of Yule-tide. 

Wee Dorothy. 

By LAURA UPDEGRAFF 

A story of two orphan children, the tender devotion 
of the eldest, a boy, for his sister being its theme and 
setting. With a bit of sadness at the beginning, the 
story is otherwise bright and sunny, and altogether 
wholesome in every way. 

The King of the Golden River: a 

Legend of Stiria. By JOHN RUSKIN 
Written fifty years or more ago, and not originally 
intended for publication, this little fairy-tale soon be- 
came known and made a place for itself. 

A Child’s Garden of Verses. 

By L. R. STEVENSON 

Mr. Stevenson’s little volume is too well known to 
need description, 

B — 8 


THE GOLDENROD LIBRARY 


The Goldenrod Library contains stories which appeal 
alike both to children and to their parents and guardians. 

Each volume is well illustrated from drawings by 
competent artists, which, together with their handsomely 
decorated uniform binding, showing the goldenrod, 
usually considered the emblem of America, is a feature 
of their manufacture. 

Each one volume, small i2mo, illustrated, $0.35 

LIST OF TITLES 

Aunt Nabby’s Children. By Frances Hodges White. 
Child’s Dream of a Star, The. By Charles Dickens. 
Flight of Rosy Dawn, The. By Pauline Bradford Mackie. 

Findelkind. By Ouida. 

Fairy of the Rhone, The. By A. Comyns Carr. 

Qatty and I. By Frances E. Crompton. 

Great Emergency, A. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 
Helena’s Wonderworld. By Frances Hodges White. 
Jackanapes. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

Jerry’s Reward. By Evelyn Snead Barnett. 

La Belle Nivernaise. By Alphonse Daudet. 

Little King Davie^ By Nellie Hellis. 

Little Peterkin Vandike. By Charles Stuart Pratt. 
Little Professor, The. By Ida Horton Cash. 

Peggy ’p Trial. By Mary Knight Potter. 

Prince Yellowtop. By Kate Whiting Patch. 

Provence Rose, A. By Ouida. 

Rab and His Friends. By Dr. John Brown. 

Seventh Daughter, A. By Grace Wickham Curran. 
Sleeping Beauty, The. By Martha Baker Dunn. 

Small, Small Child, A. By E. Livingston Prescott. 
Story of a Short Life, The. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 
Susanne. By Frances J. Delano. 

Water People, The. By Charles Lee Sleight. 

Young Archer, The. By Charles E. Brimblecom. 

B — 9 


THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES 

The most delightful and interesting accounts possible 
of child-life in other lands, filled with quaint sayings, 
doings, and adventures. 

Each I vol., i2mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six 
or more full-page illustrations in color. 

Price per volume . . . , . . $060 

By MARY HAZKLTON WADE {unless otherwise 
indicated) 


Our Little African Cousin 
Our Little Armenian Cousin 
Our Little Brown Cousin 

Our Little Canadian Cousin 

By Elizabeth R. Macdonald 

Our Little Chinese Cousin 

By Isaac Taylor Headland 

Our Little Cuban Cousin 

Our Little Dutch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little English Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Eskimo Cousin 

Our Little French Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little German Cousin 

Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 

Our Little Indian Cousin 

Our Little Irish Cousin 

Our Little Italian Cousin 
li — 10 


Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 

Our Little Korean Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 

By Edward C. Butler 

Our Little Norwegian Cousin 

Our Little Panama Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 

Our Little Scotch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Siamese Cousin 

Our Little Spanish Cousin 

By Mary F'. Nixon - Roulet 

Our Little Swedish Cousin 

By Claire M. Coburn 

Our Little Swiss Cousin 
Our Little Turkish Cousin 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

(Trade Mark) 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

Each I vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, per vol $1.50 

The Little Colonel Stories. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated. 

Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy 
Corner Series, “ The Little Colonel,” “ Two Little Knights 
of Kentucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” put into a 
single volume. 

The Little Colonel’s House Party. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by Louis Meynell. 

The Little Colonel’s Holidays. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 

The Little Colonel’s Hero. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel at Boarding 

(Trade Mark) 

School. 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel in Arizona. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel’s Christmas Va- 

(Trade Mark) 

cation. 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel, Maid of Honour. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

B— 11 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY’S 


The Little Colonel. 

(Trade Mark) 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 
The Qiant Scissors. 

Special Holiday Editions 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $i .25 
New plates, handsomely illustrated, with eight full- 
page drawings in color. 

“ There are no brighter or better stories for boys and girls 
than these .” — Chicago Record-Herald. 

“ The books are as satisfactory to the small girls, who find 
them adorable, as for the mothers and librarians, who delight 
in their influence .” — Christian Register. 

These three volumes, boxed as a three-volume set to 
complete the library edition of The Little Colonel books, 

$ 3 - 75 - 

In the Desert of Waiting: The Legend 

OF Camelback Mountain. 

The Three Weavers : a fairy tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

Keeping Tryst. 

Each one volume, tall i6mo, cloth decorative . $0.50 

Paper boards 35 

There has been a constant demand for publication 
in separate form of these three stories, which were orig- 
inally included in three of the “ Little Colonel” books. 

Joel : A Boy of Galilee. By Annie Fel- 
lows Johnston. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 
New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little 
Colonel Books, i vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, 

$1.50 

A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the 
author’s best-known books, and which has been trans- 
lated into many languages, the last being Italian. 

B— 1* 







ttAY 29 


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